Welcome to Oz
by ElvenPwner
Summary: Complete! This is semi-AU. The story is already completed, so I'm just posting updates and making small changes. Everyone is in character. Kept the OC realistic and smart. Sylar/OC. A/N: Don't read this if you aren't familiar with the episodes, as you will be completely lost!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but Dorothy and her family. Please don't sue me. **

**Author's Note: I have already finished this story in it's entirety, so it's just a matter of publishing it and making a few changes when inspiration strikes. Reviews are always welcome!  
**

0o0o0o0

I fell onto the bed and rubbed my face tiredly. Inspiration had struck around dinner time yesterday, and I'd been up all night writing furiously on my laptop.

It had been well over 24 hours since I'd slept, but I was now too wired to sleep. There was something so incredibly satisfying about finishing a story, about writing that final sentence and sending it to the publisher. It was better than any drug could ever be.

Every time I finished a book, I celebrated. Before, I would have take one of our family's horses and ridden as fast as I could around one of our tracks, the breakneck pace enhancing the feeling of elation and freedom.

Of course, given that I had moved to New York three months ago, riding a race horse was sort of out of the question. So, I decided to take a walk and see if inspiration struck. Lord knew, as a full time writer without a 9-5 job, I needed to get out of my apartment more.

Pulling off my pajamas, I threw on old jeans and a T-shirt before heading out.

I locked my apartment and headed down the stairs, putting on my headphones as I did so. Distracted as I shuffled through my iPod, I failed to notice the tall man heading into the building at the same time. We ran into each other at full speed, the collision causing him to drop his grocery bags.

"Oh, crap. I'm so sorry," I apologized hastily, yanking my headphones down around my neck. I nearly groaned aloud when I recognized the sexy stranger I'd had a crush on since I'd moved in a month ago. We'd never exchanged words, but they occasionally passed each other in the hall, and my heart did a little flip every time he smiled shyly at my. Hoobah, that boy was handsome when he smiled.

Mentally facepalming my bad luck, I bent to help him gather the food.

"It was an accident," he assured me, putting a cereal box into one of the bags. The two bags had been packed full, and one of them had split open when it hit the ground.

"Here, let me help you carry these," I offered, examining the unsalvageable paper. "There's no way you'll be able to carry this on your own now."

"Uh…thanks," he accepted tentatively, peering at my awkwardly from under thick dark eyebrows. I smiled back at him and proceeded to gather milk and vegetables in my arms. "I live just on the second floor," he said as he led me up the stairs.

"You live next door to me," I commented as they came to his door. "I'm 2C."

He stared at me. "You're Mozella," he realized aloud. His cheeks and ears went red and he ducked his head in embarrassment when my eyebrows shot up. "Mozella. You listen to her a lot. I could hear it through the walls and I recognized the songs."

I grinned as we set down the food on his counter. "Yeah, she's one of my favorites. I didn't realize I was being so loud. Sorry."

"Oh, it didn't bother me," he assured my hastily.

We stared at each other awkwardly, neither knowing what to say. As discreetly as possible, I studied him.

He was easily over six feet, given how he towered over my 5'8 height. Thick rimmed glasses were perched on a nose almost too big for his face. Given how shy he seemed, he was clearly unaware of how handsome he was or the fact that butterflies were staging a rebellion in my stomach.

"I'm Gabriel Gray," he said, abruptly remembering his manners and offering his hand.

Smiling up at him, I shook it. Mental Dorothy was loudly pointing out how his large hand engulfed my small one, and was wondering what else was large on him. I shoved a sock in her mouth to shut her up. "Dorothy DuValier."

Another awkward pause. Silently, I wished I were better at this social thing like the characters in my books. _Of course, smooth talking is easy when you control both sides of the conversation_, I thought dryly.

I tried to remember anything my vivacious sister had told me about flirting, but my mind seemed to go completely blank. Mental Dorothy, on the other hand, was urging me to jump his bones. It seems my mini-me was becoming something of a strumpet where Gabriel was concerned.

"Anyway, I guess I should go," I said after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"Wait," Gabriel exclaimed before promptly flushing red. He cleaned his glasses on his sweater, the action speaking more of nervous habit than of any actual necessity. "Uh, would you maybe want to go out? To dinner? With me?"

I beamed at him. "Are you doing anything tonight?"

He blinked, clearly not anticipating an affirmative answer. "No. I'm free."

I shifted uncomfortably, wondering if I'd come across as too eager. "I…uh…I'm sort of celebrating something, and I thought maybe you'd like to join me."

"Yeah, I think I'd like that," he said, offering me a small smile.

I rewarded him with a thousand watt smile. "Be at my place at…" I glanced at my watch and hastily added a few hours for sleep and errands… "eight?"

"I'll be there."

"Great," I said beaming at him before flouncing to the door. "See you then." I closed the door behind me on my way out.

As soon as the door shut, I indulged in an extremely embarrassing, undignified victory dance, complete with moonwalk and head banging.

0o0o0o0

"Dorothy Jean, are you really saying that you moved to New York, the city that never sleeps, and you have nothing to do," Rose said over the phone. My big sister was clearly amused.

"Hey, hey, hey," I said defensively. "I went shopping for something to wear tonight."

"Oh? And what did you find?"

I glanced at the ice cream in my hand. "Super Fudge Chunk," I said sheepishly.

"Somehow, I'm not surprised," Rose said dryly.

I snorted indelicately. "Shush, woman, and help me think of something wear."

There were sounds of kids screaming and laughing in the background. "Alex, Charlotte, no running in the house," Rose yelled at my kids. I pulled the phone away and rubbed my ear. "Ok, what about that blue top? It brings out your eyes."

I frowned as I held up the blouse. "I was thinking something more feminine."

"How fancy is this date," my sister asked.

"I'm not really sure," I replied, flipping through my closet. "I don't have anything planned."

"Well, what about a dance club or something," Rose suggested.

I pulled the phone away and stared at it incredulously for a moment before holding it back to my ear. "I'm sorry, I think you have me confused with someone else. I'm your little sister, Dorothy. You know, the one who can't walk across a flat stable surface without finding something to trip over?"

"Oh, ha ha," Rose retorted. "Most women like dancing. Ok, then, what about dinner and a movie?"

"Yeah, I think we'll have to, since I don't know anywhere good yet," I said, holding up a likely dress. "What about that pink dress you gave me? Ladylike, but flatters my curves."

"Well, that color is certainly attention getting," Rose said dryly. "But it really is a flattering color for you. It sets off your dark hair and blue eyes, and goes well with your fair skin."

"So pink dress is a go," I confirmed, pulling it out of the closet. "Shoes?"

"Go with the black pumps," Rose suggested. "I know you're a total klutz in heels, but they look so cute together."

"Ah, the age old debate: fashion vs. emergency room visit," I replied wryly.

"Hey, 'It hurts to be beautiful'," Rose quoted.

"Alright, hair. How should I do it? I was thinking 1940's Victory rolls."

"I like it, but leave the back down." There was a busting noise in the background and Rose cursed. "Ok, your nephew is currently trying to light himself on fire, so I'm gonna go. Love you."

"Love you, too," I said before hanging up the phone.

Twenty minutes later, I was spritzing perfume on when I heard a knock on the door. "Wow. 8 exactly," I murmured, glancing at the clock. I gave myself a quick once-over in mirror before hastily running to the door.

Gabriel was standing outside, dressed in a button down and sweater vest. With his hair parted to the side and his thick glasses, he looked more than a little like Clark Kent. Mental Dorothy leered at him and held up a spandex Superman costume for him to try on. The thought made me smile.

"Hi, Gabriel," I greeted. "Come on in." I stepped aside so he could enter.

"You look lovely," he said, smiling down at me as I closed the door.

"Thank you," I replied with a grin.

"Oh, these are for you," he said, handing me the flowers in his hand.

"They're beautiful. Daisies are my favorite," I said with a pleased smile as I accepted the bouquet. "How did you know?"

Gabriel smiled nervously. "They're on your arm."

I laughed, glancing down at the tattoos. "Fair enough. Let me put them in some water real quick."

"So, I don't know New York very well yet," I said over my shoulder as I finished working on the flowers. "I was hoping you might know of a good place to eat."

"Well, there's a really good Italian place down the street," he suggested tentatively.

"That sounds great," I said, setting the flowers by my window. On my way back to him, I grabbed my purse and keys from the door. "Let's go."

"So, where are you from? By that strong accent, I'm guessing somewhere in the south," he commented as I locked my apartment.

I laughed. "I'm not the one with the accent, honey. It's all you Yankees that speak funny," I teased. He smiled down at me as we made their way out of the building. "But Georgia, to answer your question. You?"

"I've lived in New York my entire life."

I shook my head. "I can't imagine. It's so different here. I still haven't gotten used to it."

"What's it like in Georgia," he asked curiously.

"Quiet," I said promptly. "And much slower. Especially since I grew up on a farm. It's a completely different world."

"So how did the farmer's daughter come to the big city?"

I clicked my tongue and winked at him playfully. "Ah, but I didn't say my family were farmers. We breed race horses."

"You're joking," Gabriel said incredulously as they walked.

"Totally serious. My family is no small name in the racing world," I said proudly.

"By racing, you mean things like the Kentucky Derby," he asked.

I nodded. "We've raced a few horses in the Kentucky Derby and the Preakness and the Belmont Stakes. But there are many other races that you probably haven't heard of unless you follow horse racing."

"Well, that explains the tattoo," he said, gesturing to the full sleeve tattoo on my left arm. Black and white images of horses racing towards a checkered flag interwove with delicate script and tiny daisies around my arm.

I smiled. "The horses on it are my three favorites. This one, Hermes, is the one I rode when I was little and first learning. Sweet as molasses and about as fast," I said dryly. "This one is the first one I helped foal and train, Eomer. Don't smirk," I said, gently nudging him with a grin, "I was going through a Lord of the Rings phase. Anyway, and this one is Ruffian, who I never met, but whose story I love."

"What was her story," he asked curiously.

"Well, for starters, she was a filly, which is unusual in the racing world. But even today she's considered the greatest female racehorse in history, and one of the greatest racehorses of the 20th century. she was undefeated until her final race at Belmont park against Foolish Pleasure. She hurt her legs in the race, but was so determined to win that her rider couldn't stop her."

I shook my head as I continued. "Her injuries were so severe that they ended up having to euthanize her. But still, she was so determined to win that she ran with broken legs and torn ligaments. Ruffian was such a legend that they buried her near a flag pole in the infield of Belmont Park, with her nose pointed toward the finish line."

"She was special," he said with a small smile. "She represents the things you want in yourself."

I smiled up at him, glad he understood.

"If your family are horse breeders, what brought you to New York," he questioned.

I laced my arm through his as we walked, and he seemed to have to suppress a smile.

"Well, I'm the youngest of 5 kids, three boys and two girls, so the family business was never going to fall to me. I became a writer, and eventually decided I wanted to try a different way of life."

He raised an eyebrow. "Have you been published?"

I laughed outright at that. "Ah, the very subtle way of asking if I'm actually a writer or if I'm a bum who's been working on the same 'novel' for six years. I get that a lot," I added, grinning up at him, clearly not offended. "Yes, I've been published several times. As a matter of fact, this morning I finished my latest book and sent it to the publisher, which is what we're celebrating."

"Congratulations," he said, sounding impressed. "What do you write?"

I smiled a little sheepishly. "Well, I write trashy romance novels, actually, but I'm thinking of branching out for my next book into Mystery. I've got the beginnings of a plot in my head, but I'm not sure where it's going yet. But enough about me. It's your turn. What do you do," I asked curiously.

"I'm not nearly as interesting as you. I fix time pieces," he said sheepishly.

I arched a surprised eyebrow at him. "Are you kidding? That's awesome." At Gabriel's skeptical look, I shook my head. "No, I'm being serious. I've only half-joking when I say I've kind of always thought clocks just run on magic."

He laughed, relaxing a little. "Nothing so fantastic as that, I'm afraid. They're like puzzles. You just have to figure out how they tick."

"See, you're speaking, but all I hear is 'I'm a wizard'."

He grinned down at my in amusement. "Do you want to see the shop? We're close now and it's on the way to the restaurant."

"Heck yes! Why was that even a question?"

He seemed more relaxed than when he'd shown up at my door. "So, what's it like being a writer?"

I smiled in amusement. "What's it like being a watch maker?" I shook my head and shrugged. "Every job has its downsides, but I get paid to _daydream_. With every new story, I get to fall in love all over again."

He smiled. "How do you come up with stories?"

"I can honestly tell you that I have no idea. I just wait for inspiration to strike, and then suddenly, there are these characters in my head, and they already have a whole story to their lives. My job is just to sift through the veil of fog to find out what that story is."

"Here it is," he said, pulling me to a stop. For some reason, he seemed tense and anxious, like it mattered if I approved or not.

"Gray and Sons," I read from the sign. I looked at him. "Can we go in?"

"Oh, uh, yeah." He pulled out a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the door, holding it for me politely as I entered.

I looked around curiously. "So this is where you practice your voodoo magic," I teased, glancing back at him with an impish grin. "Can I see the inside of something? I'm still half convinced there will be very tiny people pushing gears around."

He chuckled and led me to a desk. "Here's one of the watches I've been working on." He gingerly took the back off.

I leaned over to look inside, but I couldn't make heads or tails of all the small gears. "Mmm…Well, the tiny people theory is out," I said in amusement. "I think I get how it works, though."

"Oh," he asked, the tone sounding very much like he didn't believe me.

I nodded seriously and glanced over my shoulder at him. My face was serious, but my eyes grinned at him. "See, you wave your magic shillelagh stick over it, chant a little, and poof, it works."

"Clearly, I must be a wizard," he agreed somberly.

I straightened, unable to contain my grin any longer. I raised an eyebrow at him, "When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

"Sherlock Holmes," he said, smiling.

"You've read Sherlock Holmes," I asked, pleasantly surprised.

He shrugged. "I read a lot."

"Every writer loves to hear that," I teased. "One day, you'll have to show me how this works, but for now, I'm starving," I said. Gabriel nodded and stood. After he closed the shop, we continued to the restaurant a few blocks away.

They were seated without a wait in the small, but crowded restaurant. "Can I get you and your sister something to drink," the waiter asked, his gaze dismissing Gabriel but lingering on me a moment too long for comfort.

"I'm not his sister," I corrected with a polite smile. "Can I get sweet iced tea, please?"

"Water, please," Gabriel said, frowning at the waiter.

"So, how did you get into your line of work," I asked as the waiter left.

He shrugged. "I thought it would make my father happy, and it's something I'm good at."

"What about your family? What was little Gabriel like?"

"Awkward," he said with a shy smile. That, I could believe, but I bet that it was as endearing on him then as it was now. "As for my family, it's always just been me and my mom. My dad left when I was young."

I frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that. But I bet you and your mom are really close."

He grimaced slightly. "You could say that. We've stayed close, but she sometimes has trouble accepting that I'm a grown man. She constantly tells me I can be anything I want. She wasn't happy at all when I became a watchmaker."

I cocked my head to the side curiously. "How old are you, anyway?"

He fiddled with his glasses, another of his nervous habits. "30. You?"

"Guess you're robbin' the cradle. I'm 23." I was grinning, clearly amused.

He blinked. "You're a published author at 23?"

My grin just widened. "I was a published author at 19."

Gabriel frowned. "So, why are you interested in me, really? You're clearly out of my league."

"Thanks, but I definitely wouldn't go that far," I said dryly. "I –"

I was cut off by the arrival of the waiter, bringing our drinks. "Have you and your friend decided on what to eat," he asked, smiling at me again. Gabriel's gaze landed on the table as he shifted uncomfortably.

"I'll have the chicken ravioli, please," Gabriel said, staring at the man for a moment with that unblinking gaze. He turned to me with a half smile. "And my date will have…"

It was all I could do not to laugh at the look on the waiters face, but my mother had raised me to be a lady, and ladies were unfailingly polite. "I'll have the vegetable ravioli, please," I said, grinning.

Gabriel was looking at me with an eyebrow raised pointedly.

"Oh, please, Gabriel," I said, rolling my eyes. "It was a simple mistake."

He looked at my incredulously. "Even the waiter thinks doesn't believe we're on a date. He's hitting on you."

I rolled my eyes. "He's a guy in his early twenties. He probably hits on anything in a skirt." Gabriel clearly had no clever rebuttal for this, for which I congratulated myself. "So tell me about Gabriel Gray as a kid. Paint me a word picture," I said with a dramatic wave of my hands.

He gave a small smile. "I didn't have many friends because we were poor and I wore glasses. Mom was very religious, so I wore collared shirts and pants, instead of normal kid clothes. As a result, I was very quiet and nerdy. I spent most of my time reading and studying."

"I want to give you a hug so badly right now," I said honestly. He looked uncomfortable, so I restrained myself. "Still, I bet you were an adorable boy," I teased to reassure him I wasn't going to leap over the table and attack him. "I can just imagine a chubby cheeked Gabriel with glasses and collared shirts."

It was Gabriel's turn to roll his eyes. "What about you," he asked. "'Paint me a word picture'."

I smiled as he threw my words back at me. "Pretty much the polar opposite of you. I was the youngest of five kids, and so I wanted to stand out. My siblings were the all-American teenagers, so, I rebelled in a big way, and at every turn. Lots of drinking and drugs and partying. Momma says most of her gray hairs came from me," I said dryly.

"What changed," he asked, his gaze piercing and unblinking. I felt like I was under a microscope.

"Well, I discovered writing, for one thing. But…I don't know. I realized I wanted to be more like a Cat Woman than a Mary Jane."

His head tilted to the side as he regarded me. "Well, aren't you a little bundle of contradictions."

I frowned. "Honestly, I think most people think I'm a backwater hick. I waved to someone the other day, and she glared at me. I can't imagine my accent helps."

His gaze met mine. "Dorothy from Georgia, I think your accent is cute."

_He likes me! He likes me!_ I swallowed nervously, trying fruitlessly to stop my cheeks from turning red. "Gabriel from New York, I think you're the most attractive watch maker I've ever met."

We were saved from further comment by the arrival of our food. This time, blessedly, the waiter didn't even look at me.

Breaking the heavy discussion, I steered the conversation towards movies and books, knowing it would be a safe topic. I was pleased at how well read he was, but nothing compared to my happiness when he quoted Star Trek and Lord of the Rings back at me.

Nerd love is a beautiful thing, my friends.

Eventually, we paid and left, but took our time walking home.

"Alright, your turn," he challenged.

I thought for a minute, enjoying the game we'd been playing since we'd left the restaurant. One person quoted a well known movie or series, and the other had to guess what it was from. "'If you can't take a little bloody nose, maybe you oughtta go back home and crawl under your bed. It's not safe out here. It's wondrous, with treasures to satiate desires both subtle and gross; but it's not for the timid."

"Star Trek," he answered promptly. "Good choice. Ok, my turn," he said, casually taking my hand as they walked.

I couldn't suppress a grin. For all he had been nonchalant about the gesture, I could feel the nervousness coming off him.

He pitched his voice high and affected a terrible British accent, "Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony.'"

I laughed, grinning widely. "I don't know."

"Monty Python and the Holy Grail."

"Oh, right! I remember that scene," I exclaimed, snapping my fingers. "Alright alright, you clearly have me outmatched in this game," I said, looking down with a small smile. "There's no way I can win at this point."

He smiled at the ground. "Well, what about more questions. 10 questions, and we have to answer honestly." I nodded in agreement.

"Ok. I'll go first. Have you ever been arrested," I asked.

He raised an amused eyebrow at my. "No. You?"

I coughed into my fist, and his eyebrow shot up even further, making me laugh. "It wasn't anything serious. We were caught drinking underage..and trespassing."

"Do you have any tattoos other than the ones on your arm?"

"Several, actually," I said. His curious gaze traveled over my pale, unmarked skin. "They're all on my torso, so that no one can see them unless I want them to," I explained at his disbelieving look. "So what about you?"

"No tattoos. I'm pretty much just your average watchmaker," he said as we reached my door. The comment was made offhand, but I could sense bitterness and dissatisfaction radiating off him.

"I wouldn't say that," I said with a smile. "You're anything but average. You're the smartest man I've ever met, Gabriel Gray."

He looked down at me for a long moment, as if trying to figure me out.

Gabriel's hand gently cupped my jaw, pulling me to him as he slowly leaned down. When his lips brushed against mine, my heart began pounding frantically.

I deepened the kiss, dancing my tongue around his lips. His grip on my waist tightened, pulling me closer to him. _His cologne is intoxicating_, I thought dizzily as I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed myself closer to him. When his tongue slipped into my mouth and danced around mine, I sighed against his lips.

After several moments, I broke away for air. I couldn't help the enormous smile that spread across my lips as I looked up at him. Mental Dorothy was demanding I return and finished what I started. Unable to resist, I planted one last sweet kiss on his lips before stepping back.

"Goodnight, Gabriel."

Gabriel was staring at me with a dopey grin across his face.

0o0o0o0o0

I was wandering the grocery store when my phone started ringing. Thinking it was my editor, I opened the phone without checking the caller id.

"Hey, Miranda," I greeted, staring down at the deli spread in front of my. "Do you know what's in salami? I'm standing here looking at one, and thinking about the fact that no one has ever said 'Hey, I'm gonna go shoot a _salami_.'"

There was masculine laughter on the other end of the line. "Salami is just cured sausage."

I closed my eyes, wincing. Mental Dorothy sarcastically applauded my smoothness. "Hi, Gabriel," I said sheepishly. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." I could hear his smile in his voice. "I called to say that I had a good time last night." There was a pause and he cleared his throat, like he was getting up his courage. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out again."

I smiled giddily. It was so thrilling to be experiencing the rush of new love for myself, instead of living vicariously through my characters. "Do you have plans tonight?"

"No, I don't." Gabriel sounded relieved.

"Groovy." I winced. Groovy? "When do you get off work?"

"I close the shop at 7."

"Well, I'm a little homesick, so I was going to make some soul food. Why don't you stop by after work, and I'll make enough for both of us?"

"What is 'soul food'," he asked quizzically.

I flapped my hand dismissively, though he obviously couldn't see it. "You know. Fried chicken, cornbread, sweet iced tea. Stuff to clog your arteries. Soul food."

The smile in his voice sounded like it had broadened. "That sounds good. Should I bring anything?"

"Just your eatin' pants," I said reflexively. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. This conversation was not making me look great. "I can't believe I just said that. Momma always says that when we have guests over. Sorry."

Gabriel was laughing. "No, it's fine. I'll be there in a few hours?"

"Yeah," I said, sighing mentally. "Let's hang up while I still retain some shreds of my dignity."

He chuckled again. "Bye, Dorothy."

I shook my head and slipped my phone into my purse. "You know, I was smart once," I muttered to myself.

A few hours later, I was singing along with a country song playing on my laptop, dancing barefoot around the kitchen while I cooked.

There was a knock on the door and I danced over to open it. Gabriel was standing there.

"Come on in, cowboy," I greeted with a wink as I stepped back to let him in.

"It smells delicious," he said.

"I don't keep any alcohol here, but I've got sweet tea, water, and cokes," I offered.

"A coke is fine," he said, smiling nervously. To distract himself, he perused my living room while I was in the kitchen.

Since the building was old, our apartments were structurally different. I had a separate bedroom, for one thing. Yet, even the feel of my place was much warmer and more inviting. It was clean but chaotic, books and CDs piled high on any flat surface. Where his place was subdued and organized neatly, mine was vibrant and alive with color.

The entire apartment smelled like a strange but pleasant mixture of Febreeze and my perfume. On one wall, there was a framed map of Middle Earth, and another was turned into a collage of framed photos.

"Just waiting on the cornbread to finish," I said as I came into the room with our drinks.

"You have a motorcycle," he commented, staring at one of the pictures.

"What? Oh, yeah, I do," I said, handing him the can. He was looking at a photo of me and my oldest brother, Nathan, astride our two bikes. Mine was a black 'crotch rocket' as my brother had termed it, whereas his had been an old style Harley. "I got my motorcycle license when I published my first book."

"Did you bring it to the city," he asked curiously.

I nodded. "I figured it was more practical to use in the city, but I also didn't want to ride it for 16 hours, so I towed it with my SUV."

He peered at me with that unblinking stare that was becoming familiar. "Tattoos, confidence, and now a motorcycle. We're so different. I don't understand why you're interested in me."

I smiled mischievously into my cup. "Maybe I'm secretly hoping you're Clark Kent or Bruce Wayne."

He smiled slightly, looking down at the wine in his hand. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm just a watchmaker. Nothing special here."

I snorted, causing him to look up at me in surprise. "Gabriel, I've grown up around horses, and I can tell you from experience that humans and horses aren't so different. Greatness doesn't necessarily come in the form of a showy thoroughbred stallion." I ignored Mental Dorothy when she commented that he was a stallion I could ride all night long. "The greatest stories are usually about the underdog with no money that goes on to win the Triple Crown."

Gabriel stared at me. "And if I'm not a Triple Crown winner? What if I'm not even in the race?"

I shrugged. "Maybe you're just not looking at the right race, or judging yourself by the right standards. Maybe your skill isn't speed, but endurance." The oven timer went off and Gabriel followed me into the kitchen. "This metaphor is getting complicated, but here's the gist: we all have to judge ourselves by our own standards and our own strengths, because otherwise we'd spend our lives feeling inadequate." I set pulled the old-cast iron skillet out of the oven and set it on top of the stove. "Now, enough with the heavy talk. You hungry?"

**Please R&R! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Holy typos and inconsistencies, Batman! I need a Beta like you wouldn't believe. I'm just realizing now all the things I didn't catch when I edited the story. Woops!**

0o0o0o0

A week later, I was knee deep in inspiration. My muse was behaving for once, and I was cranking out chapters one after another. It was a wonderful feeling, even if it meant that I hadn't slept for over 24 hours.

That my inspiration was due to Gabriel was a given. We had been texting back and forth since dinner a week ago, and he'd come over a few times just to watch stupid movies. Just thinking about him made a smile creep up. Oh, I had it bad for this guy.

Yawning, I walked to the kitchen and glared menacingly at the coffee pot as I poured the last cup. "Not cool, Mr. Coffee," I informed it. "You're killing me here." My coffee maker looked thoroughly ashamed of itself.

I was putting on yet another pot of coffee when there was another knock on my door. I looked at it in surprise. "Speak of the devil," I murmured as I looked through the peephole. Gabriel was standing there, dressed in his Clark Kent ensemble as usual, and holding wine.

Flustered by his unexpected arrival, I looked down at my worn cotton pajama pants and tank top that I'd spent the last several hours writing in. I wasn't wearing makeup, my hair was a mess, and I hadn't even bothered to put my contacts in. At least the tank top had a bra built in, I sighed mentally. I opened the door.

"Hi, Gabriel," I said with a bright smile. "Come on in."

He blinked at me as he stepped around me and I shut the door. "You wear glasses, too." He sounded both incredibly surprised and strangely delighted.

I gave him an amused, if questioning, look at the weird comment. "Believe it or not, they aren't just restricted to super hero alter egos."

He flushed and looked down with a smile. "No, I…just didn't realize you needed them. I like them. It makes you seem approachable."

"I don't think I get more approachable than pajamas and no makeup," I smiled.

"Yeah, I guess I should have called first," he said awkwardly. "I just…I wanted to see you. Oh, and I brought wine for you."

"Thank you, Gabriel," I said as I accepted the bottle. "Would you like some?"

"Yes, please," he said, leaning against my counter. I pulled out a glass for him and uncorked the wine. I could feel his eyes on me as I poured some and handed it to him. "You don't drink, do you," he asked as I set about tending to the flowers.

I froze. No one had ever called me out on it before. I decided not to answer but I could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

I set the flowers by the window and turned to see Gabriel staring at me with his piercing, all-seeing gaze. "You're an alcoholic," he realized.

My chin rose as I eyed him warily. People had preconceived notions about alcoholics, recovering or no. Gabriel and I hadn't known each other that long, but he didn't seem the type to judge harshly. "I've been sober for a year," I said, studying him for his reaction. For some reason, his opinion was important to me.

"And I've been bringing over bottles of wine," he said, shaking his head. He sounded like he was cursing himself mentally. "I'm sorry, Dorothy."

I smiled and my gaze softened. "I've been on the bandwagon for a year, now, Gabriel. I'm not so unstable that I can't handle having wine in the house, nor so rude that I would turn down a hostess gift. Although, now that you know," I said teasingly, "I should tell you that I prefer chocolate over wine."

He relaxed and smiled back at me, and for a moment I was struck by how handsome he was. "Duly noted."

I laced my arm through his and pulled him into the living room. "So tell me, to what do I own this unexpected pleasure?"

He ran his hand through his hair, looking a little sheepish. "I don't actually have an excuse for being here. I just wanted to see you."

I grinned. "Well, I'm in the middle of writing, but I certainly don't mind the company. Why don't you stay? We can have a quiet evening in."

He smiled. "Do you mind if I borrow a book?"

"Help yourself," I said, gesturing at the bookshelves as I curled up on one end of the couch. I set the coffee on the table beside me and picked up one of the anatomy textbooks, but I was actually just discreetly watching Gabriel.

He took his time picking a book, but eventually pulled out a copy of (to my surprise and anxiety) one of my own novels. He settled down on the couch with me, setting his wine on the coffee table, and it was all I could do not to start making excuses for the story.

Reprimanding myself for my insecurities, I kept my mouth shut. I was a good writer. Besides, I wrote under a pseudonym. Unless he checked the back and saw my picture, he'd have no idea it was one of mine.

I focused on my work, but was hyper aware of him as I typed. His company was incredibly distracting, but I found I didn't mind in the slightest. There was something simultaneously soothing and exhilarating about his presence. Even my muse seemed to like his presence, as the words began flowing naturally.

Several hours passed in comfortable silence, but my fatigue began catching up to me. The night before, I'd been woken by a Plot Bunny after only three hours of sleep and hadn't been back to bed since. Now, I found myself fighting yawns, but I knew my mind wouldn't shut down any time soon, not while Gabriel was here.

Finally, I shut my laptop and set it on the table and picked up the book beside it. It was an autobiography of Benjamin Franklin, and I had been reading it off and on for several weeks whenever I needed to calm my mind. I'd found out as a child that reading fiction novels would keep me awake, as I would read through the night.

Book in hand, I shifted on the couch and picked up Gabriel's arm, surprising him enough to look up. Butterflies were staging a rebellion in my stomach as I tucked myself into his side and draped his arm around me, leaning back against his chest. As I adjusted myself, I caught the smile tugging at his lips, and it matched my own. I settled comfortably against him, and I felt him press a kiss to my hair.

As I read, I idly drew little patters on his knee with my finger. I was warm, comfortable, and enveloped in Gabriel's captivating male scent.

"Do you have more by this author," he asked, startling me out of my book.

I smiled. "You liked it, then?"

"I did. She has an unusual perspective on the future and her characters don't make me roll my eyes."

I sat up and set my book on the table, my eyes grinning mischievously. "That's as much as an author can ask for."

"You wrote it," he asked with an eyebrow raised in surprise.

"I did."

"When you said you wrote romance novels, I imagined…" he floundered for words.

"You thought I meant 'bodice-rippers'," I finished with a knowing smile.

"But this is actually really captivating. Who is the assassin?"

I laughed. "Spoilers," I reprimanded with a grin. "Trust me, he leads you on a merry chase before he reveals himself."

"May I borrow this, then," he asked.

"That depends," I said, the butterflies coming back to life.

"On," he prodded when I didn't continue.

I hesitated. "On if you kiss me."

Gabriel's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but a slow smile spread across his face. Slowly, he set down the book. His brown eyes were warm as his hand moved to cup my jaw and he pulled me to him again for a gentle kiss.

His lips moved over mine softly, slowly. I was caught up in the smell of him, a heady mix of aftershave and something uniquely Gabriel. The kiss was gentle and so sweet that I couldn't help melting into him with a soft sigh, molding my soft, slender body against him. Something about him made me feel small and feminine and safe, wrapped in his arms like this.

He deepened the kiss and my hands wrapped around his neck as all the thoughts flew out of my head. His tongue slipped into my mouth, claiming me. Desire began to smolder low in my belly as I threaded my hand through his hair.

He released my lips only to claim my neck and I shivered. My knees turned to jelly and I would have fallen had he not been holding me so tightly. I moaned helplessly as the desire simmering in my body turned into a burn, and I adjusted so that I was straddling him.

Our lips met again, and my hands wandered over his back of their own accord, feeling the tightly coiled muscles there. His hands began to roam over my waist, and I broke away to nip lightly at his earlobe. He groaned. One of his hands, which had moved to my waist, now drifted lower down my back, as though asking permission.

In response I met his lips again and kissed him deeply. Emboldened, he cupped my behind, grinding his desire into me. I moaned and untucked his shirt, wanting to feel his skin under my fingers. My small hands slipped under his shirt, his skin warm under my palms as I ran them up his back. He pulled me even closer against him, overwhelming me, and his erection pressed between my legs, separated only by layers of fabric. It seemed I wasn't the only one who was burning, I thought irrationally.

I shivered again as his hands slid slowly under my shirt, his large hands running boldly over my waist and belly, skimming my ribs. I began to pull up his sweater vest and I mourned the loss of warmth as his hands left me to finish pulling it off and tossed it on the couch. Within moments, though, his hands were back on my skin, feverishly skimming my ribs, my back, my belly as I did the same.

Our kiss was becoming frantic now as I began fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, pulling him with me as I walked backward to the bedroom. His shirt fell discarded onto the ground and I ran my hands freely over his chest, feeling his chest hair against my fingers. As my own shirt followed his, the smolder erupted into a blaze.

0o0o0o0

I giggled and buried my face in my folded arms, peering at Gabriel out of the corner of my eye. He was wearing his previously-discarded pants, but I was lying naked on my belly in front of him.

He grinned at my giggle, but didn't look up. "Stop moving."

I smiled over my shoulder at him. "I can't help it! The marker tickles. What are you drawing anyway?"

"You'll see," he said, glancing up and meeting my eyes. His eyes were warm. "I'm almost finished. Now hold still."

I grinned, but obediently stilled. Gabriel was enthralled with my tattoos, especially the White Tree of Gondor that spread from the small of my back to shoulder blades. Lord of the Rings was what had first captured my imagination as a child and had cemented my love of reading. I had another tattoo on my hip of a symbol that showed up frequently in my own work, but it was the White Tree that had captivated Gabriel.

I squirmed helplessly as the marker moved to another ticklish spot, and I could hear Gabriel laughing quietly at me. "Alright, alright, I'm done," he said, smiling.

I tried to roll and swing my legs off of the bed, but I simply managed to tangle myself in the sheets. Gabriel chuckled but didn't move to help as I only got more tangled. "What is this devil magic," I cried imperiously as I struggled to free myself. "Release me, vile cotton!" Laughing, Gabriel tugged on the sheet and the sheet fell away from the bed.

Sniffing with as much dignity as I could, I wrapped the sheet around me and walked to the full length mirror on my wall, turning and letting the sheet hang low on my back so I could see. I laughed, smiling broadly as I peered at his drawing over my shoulder as Gabriel came to stand in front of me. He wrapped his arms around me.

"Are you pushing me on a swing," I asked with a grin. Gabriel had drawn a stick figure girl on a swing attached to one of the tree's limbs, and a stick figure boy waved his hand to push her. Even Mental Dorothy melted into a puddle at the sight. "This is simultaneously the weirdest and most romantic display of post-coital affection ever."

Gabriel smiled and kissed my shoulder. "I'm glad you like it."

He pressed a kiss to my neck. His scruff tickled and squirmed in his arms. "Eeeeeh! It tickles! It tickles!"

He stared at me for a moment, his eyes unblinking, before a grin crept across his face. "You're ticklish?"

"He Incredibly so, Mr. Sexy Scruff. Don't you get any ideas," I warned, seeing a grin start across his mouth. "Tickling forfeits your coffee privileges."

'Mr. Sexy Scruff'," he repeated as if considering it. "I like it." I shrieked and darted away from him as he lunged for me. Laughing, I sprinted into the living room, the sheet flapping behind me as I ran.

Gabriel caught up with me and pulled me to him. He promptly buried his face in my neck and I squealed and snorted in laughter as I tried to get away, but his arms held me captive. When he finally stopped, I was breathless with laughter and he was grinning like a Cheshire cat. He kissed me before opening his arms.

"My retribution will be swift and fierce," I said, mock-glaring at him.

"I await it with baited breath."

I stuck my tongue out at him childishly and he just smiled. "Do you want to stay for breakfast?"

"I can't. I have to get to work," he said apologetically. "But I'll see you tonight?"

"You'll be bored," I warned. "I have to write. There's a deadline coming up."

He shrugged and kissed my forehead. "I'll bring a book, then."

I couldn't help the enormous smile that spread across my face, and the childishly giddy feeling his words gave me. _He likes me! He likes me!_

"Ok," I answered instead. "I'll make enough food for two tonight, then."

Clad only in a sheet, I walked him to the door. He gathered his clothes along the way and held them as he kissed me goodbye.

As soon as he left, I went to take a shower, knowing I needed to start straightening my apartment after last night. Still, as I stood under the hot spray, I couldn't shake the idea that Gabriel was doing this exact thing right now, only a matter of yards away.

Hot water spraying across that deliciously bare chest, running down his stomach…I shivered and bit my lip. That man was a seriously delicious piece of man meat.

0o0o0o0

I smiled to myself as I changed the music playing on my laptop. Thoughts of Gabriel kept popping into my head, and my happiness was turning up in my writing. All my characters were cheerful and sleeping together like bunnies.

Even my clothes were reflecting my mood, if the bright yellow blouse I was wearing was any indication. In anticipation of his coming over again tonight, I'd shaved and buffed myself until my skin was satiny smooth. I'd even gone to the trouble of blow drying my hair.

My musing was interrupted by a knock on the door. I glanced at the Batman Clock on my wall. It was only 11 a.m., so it definitely wasn't Gabriel. Intrigued, I untangled myself from the nest I'd created and went to look through the peephole.

"Oh my God!" I hastily unlocked the door and threw it open, only to catch a tiny woman with blond hair as she launched herself at me.

"I wanted to surprise you," Rose said as she stepped back.

"Well, you certainly did," I replied, beaming down at her. "Come on in."

"Wow, this is an awesome apartment. Oh, we should go out tonight! I'm here until tomorrow. I love that color on you. So when do I get to meet Mr. McSexy Tush?"

I blushed. I'd mentioned my critique of Gabriel's butt the last time I'd talked to her.

"Thank you! Yes, we should. You're staying here then. Thank you again. And probably tonight, and his name is Gabriel," I answered as I handed her the drink, well accustomed to keeping up with her. Rose' unpredictable stream-of-consciousness topic changes were something I'd missed.

She smiled. "I'm taking you to lunch and then shopping."

I hesitated. I wasn't opposed to shopping, per say, but to go shopping with Rose was to take your life in your hands. For such a petite woman, my sister could be truly terrifying, especially when she had the determined glint in her eye that she currently had.

"I'm not getting out of this, am I," I asked finally.

Her smile broadened. "Of course not. Now grab your purse. I'm hungry."

I rolled my eyes, but smiled as I obliged. I'd truly missed her. "So, what prompted the surprise trip," I asked as I locked my apartment.

"Well, I actually have a meeting tomorrow to talk with some investors, but I also wanted to see my sister," she said with a shrug. "Plus, I'm under strict orders to assess how you're doing."

Simultaneously, we rolled our eyes. "I call Momma every week. She knows I'm fine."

"Well, it's not just that. Momma evidently saw several trials in your future, and the first of them is coming soon. You know her policy on spoilers, so she wouldn't give specifics, but she wanted to make sure you were doing ok. And since she's terrified of flying, she sends the next best thing." My sister gestured to encompass herself.

I laughed. "Alright, alright. So, where is your stuff," I asked, noting for the first time that she didn't have any luggage, and my sister was not one to travel light.

"Oh, I left my stuff at the hotel," she said, flapping her hand.

"You could have stayed with me," I said with surprise. "You know you wouldn't even have had to ask."

She shrugged and changed the subject. "So what do you want for lunch? I'm craving italian."

There's a bistro on this block. Gabriel took me to it and I really liked it." My eyes narrowed as I looked at my sister. Rose always hated italian, and there was only one situation where she craved it. "Are you…"

"Yep," she grinned. I squealed loudly, eliciting startled looks from passersby.

I put my hand on her belly. "How far along?"

"About three and a half months," she said happily. "We've decided to keep everything a surprise for the time being. Only Momma knows, because, well, she knows everything, and now you."

Amused, I saluted her. "Yes, ma'am."

She rolled her eyes. "Will you be the godmother?"

"Of course! Oh, I can't wait to spoil this one! I love cuddling babies."

She rolled her eyes. "Rose, this is my third child. Would you please keep your hormones in check?"

I laughed. "Shouldn't I be saying that? But ok, ok. So what's the family up to?"

She laced her arm through mine as we walked. The bistro wasn't crowded, and we were seated outside as soon as we arrived.

As Rose filled me in on our family's comings and goings and the latest news from our stables, I wondered what people thought when they saw us. My sister and I shared similar facial features and we each had our father's light blue eyes, but the resemblance ended there. Where I was tall, pale, slender, and had Granny's almost-black hair, my sister was the polar opposite. Rose was golden like our father, petite, and curvy in all the right places.

Even in our style we were opposite; Rose was a business woman through and through. Her hair was perfectly coiffed and her chic business attire was both feminine and slightly Dominatrix-y. I, on the other hand, was wearing a slightly wrinkled, off-the shoulder peasant blouse and converses.

She had been promoted to partner in the family business, and I knew that it wasn't simple nepotism. Rose had a sharp mind for business and a knack for making gutsy, but correct, choices that inevitably paid out in a big way. Add to that her relentless need to prove herself, and she was a force to be reckoned with.

Since she made a (slightly gleeful) point of bowling anyone who underestimated her, she'd acquired somewhat of a reputation for ruthlessness in the business. For all that, though, her husband Adam had her completely wrapped around his finger. They were so in love that it was slightly disgusting in a sweet, painfully jealous way.

Several hours later, we were laden with bags and giggling hysterically as we entered my apartment. "So, Davidson just gives me this patronizing look, like 'Let the men talk, Sugar'. Dad, obviously, knows about all the information Davidson's trainers gave me, so he starts laughing, and buzzes the secretary to bring in popcorn."

I laughed at the image as I kicked off my converses and socks. "Did you make him call you Mistress, too?"

She snorted, dumping the bags onto the bed. "I was sorely tempted to. Oh, you should wear this tonight," she said, holding up a shirt and winking at me. It was a simple black satin blouse, but the back draped low, past mid-back. "Especially if Mr. Sexy Tush hasn't seen your back tattoo yet."

My cheeks colored and I busied myself with pulling the tags off one of our purchases.

She gawked. "I know that blush! I've _given _that blush! You slept with Mr. McSexy Tush!" Laughing, I threw one of her new blouses at her. "Details, woman! You were holding out on me."

I grinned broadly at my sister as we sat on my bed. "He, uh…well, let's just say that he has a knack for knowing how things work. And..."

_The pressure built in my belly, my entire body perched on the edge of a precipice. Just a little more...Gabriel bit my nipple, and once more I shattered in his arms. "One more," he whispered as I floated back down to Earth, his breath hot in my ear. "One more, and then you're mine."_

Mental Dorothy leered and made a very unladylike gesture. I cleared my throat, blushing furiously and trying not to giggle, "He is very patient."

"You are so red," she laughed. "Maybe we should nickname him Mr. Vavavoom."

My nose crinkled with my grin, as I slipped off my shirt and bra before changing into the backless black satin blouse. Mental Dorothy was suggesting a dirty name involving teeth marks in certain areas, but I refused to listen. Instead, I went to my bathroom and began to do my hair. She followed and began to touch up her makeup using my makeup kit.

"Alright, so we get that he knows how to row your boat, now how big is his paddle?"

"Rose Evangeline Henderson!" I threw my brush at her.

She snorted. "Don't give me that. Spill, woman. Are we talking appetizer or are we talking a seven-course dinner?"

I laughed at the image and rolled my eyes. "He's…well, he will never be accused of trying to overcompensate."

"So…steak and potatoes," she prodded, her eyebrow raised.

I grinned mischievously at her. "Steak and garlic mashed potatoes with Apple Pie and Ice cream for dessert, complete with the cherry on top."

Rose hooted. "That's my girl," she whooped as I giggled. She smiled and shook her head as I finished braiding my hair and began winding it into a loose bun at the base of my neck. She reached up and pinned a bright blue flower beside my chignon. "You needed a pop of color."

I smiled as I started touching up my own makeup. We used to share a bedroom and bathroom together, and do our makeup and hair together every day. "I've missed this."

She smiled back at me in the mirror. "Me, too, sweetie."

There was a knock on my front door, startling both of us. I hadn't realized how late it was getting. "Crap, perfume!" She snatched up one of the bottles, knowing by now which was my favorite, and spritzed me lightly before shoving me out of the bathroom.

Stumbling slightly before I recovered myself and threw open the front door with a huge grin. Startled, Gabriel raised an eyebrow and smiled back at me. I leaned back slightly to check if my sister had come out of the bathroom. Satisfied that she wasn't, I turned back to Gabriel, grabbed him, and pulled his head down for a kiss. Surprised, he kissed me back until I pulled away.

He grinned goofily at me and shoved his glasses back up his nose. "Hi. You look really beautiful."

I smiled warmly at him. "Hi, yourself." I took his hand and pulled him into the apartment. "My sister came for a visit," I said, closing the door behind him. I couldn't stop smiling at him. He really was handsome in a nerdy Clark Kent way.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Her name is Rose, right?"

As if summoned, she came strutting out of the hallway. "Cherry on top indeed," she murmured as she approached, holding her hand out.

He accepted it, blinking. "Excuse me?"

Behind his back, I narrowed my eyes warningly and mouthed, 'Don't you _dare_.' She didn't break eye contact with Gabriel, but her smile widened noticeably. "I'm Rose. You must be Gabriel. Dorothy has told me _a lot_ about you."

"It's hard to believe you are sisters," he said. "You both look so different except for your eyes."

"She was the trial run before the finished product," I teased.

She arched an eyebrow in challenge. "I prefer to think of it as the original of a good movie. The sequel is just never quite as good."

I nodded, impressed. "Well-played, madam."

Gabriel raised his eyebrows, glancing back and forth between the two of us. "If you two would prefer, I can leave you alone. I don't want to intrude."

"Nonsense, Mr. Gray," my sister said lightly. "I'd like to get to know the man my sister described as…" her eyes flicked to mine, "charming and intelligent." The pause was imperceptible to anyone who didn't know her, but to me, it seemed to drag on for hours. I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Shall we go to dinner," I asked hastily. "We lost track of time, so I didn't get to put on dinner."

"Sure," Gabriel said hesitantly, clearly sensing something was transpiring around him, but clueless as to what it was. I felt a little bad for him and resolved to keep my sister from train rolling him. Her sense of humor could be warped at times.

"My treat," Rose said with a smile. "Or rather, the company's treat. There are perks to being partner," she said, flouncing off to put on her shoes.

I pulled on the wedges I'd bought to go with my top, glancing unsurely at Gabriel. "I…" I floundered for words. Finally, I shrugged at him apologetically. "I swear she isn't Satan."

In the end, dinner went well, if uneventfully. To my extreme surprise, once Gabriel had collected himself, he'd managed to keep up with my sister flawlessly, even seeming amused. He charmed the pants off of her, and I think by the time we dropped her off at her hotel, she'd had a little crush on Gabriel. She certainly approved of him.

0o0o0o0o0o0


	3. Chapter 3

I strode into Gabriel's shop, the bell tinkling to announce my presence. "One moment," came Gabriel's voice from somewhere in the back. He sounded absorbed in something, probably some mysterious watch. I smiled at the thought.

This past month, he'd spent more time at my place than at his own, and my coffee table had been taken over by various watch-maker gadgets. Even my bathroom had acquired guy things (his electric shaver looked like something Batman might have on his utility belt), but given how much I loved his presence, I couldn't complain. He even had a drawer of stuff in my bedroom now, and I'd decided that it was time to ask him to move in. I'd spent the morning clearing room for him around my apartment.

Instead of waiting for Gabriel to come to me, I made my way to the back. "Marco!"

There was a pause and I knew he was smiling when he answered. "Polo." I turned backtracked a little, but found him. He was sitting behind a desk pulling off his magnifying glasses and smiling as I came into view.

"You've been riding your bike," he commented, suddenly developing a case of Elevator Eyes. I leaned against the door frame, crossing my arms with a grin. I was wearing my white armored bike jacket and boots, which I knew very well how much he loved to see me in. It may or may not have factored into my decision to wear them.

"So, you know how some people consider 'May you have an interesting life' to be a curse," I asked.

He frowned. "Yeah." I grinned and unzipped my backpack before tossing him a black motorcycle helmet. He caught it with both hands, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Fuck those people. Wanna have an adventure?"

He smiled. "That depends on what you had in mind?"

I pretended to study my nails nonchalantly. "Well, a little bird told me that it was your birthday, so I thought I might kidnap you for the day."

"And what little bird would that be," he asked dryly.

I shrugged innocently. "Said bird may or may not look like a New York State Driver's License."

"You looked through my wallet?" He was actually surprised this time.

I grinned mischievously. "I had to find out your birthday somehow, didn't I? Otherwise I wouldn't know when to kidnap you for epic adventures."

He smiled. "You're kidnapping me, eh? And what if I'm busy? This is my job, after all."

"I brought duct tape," I countered with a smug grin. Mental Dorothy had a very different suggestion involving said duct tape, but I ignored her.

"How very boy scout of you."

I flapped my hand. "I wish. They told me I had penis envy, which was not very nice of them. But that is neither here nor there. I have a field trip planned for you. Close up shop, captain," I told him. "Daylight's burning, Gray."

"Yes, ma'am," he said dryly, standing obediently. I handed him the armored, ventilated black bike jacket I'd gotten him as a birthday gift, and he put it on. I tossed aside the now empty backpack. "Aren't I the one supposed to be giving orders? I am in possession of the penis, you know."

I gave him a look. "The penis is not a conch; possessing one doesn't entitle you to speak. In fact, if you would like to remain in possession of said penis, I would stop speaking."

He chuckled and picked up his helmet. "Alright, so where are we going?"

"You'll see." I smiled and planted a kiss on his lips. Unexpectedly, he wrapped his free arm around my back to pull me close and deepen the kiss. As always, the thoughts flew out of my head. Good Lord, that man could kiss me senseless. After an eternity (or was it only a minute?) he raised his head. Dazed, it took me a moment to clear the fog from my head and notice his smug look of male satisfaction.

"I _hate _it when you do that," I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Liar," he said, smiling down at me. His eyes were so warm that I couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes and smiling back as he released me. I grabbed his hand and pulled him through the shop, tossing a mischievous grin at him over my shoulder.

I pulled my helmet on before I climbed on the black bike and started it, feeling it rumble to life beneath me as he locked the shop. He tucked the keys in the zippered pocket of the jacket as he had seen me do on multiple occasions before climbing on behind me. I waited until he had his helmet on before pulling out.

It took a while, but eventually we got out of the city and I kicked the bike into gear, driving fast. This was almost as good as riding one of our thoroughbreds. Actually, with Gabriel's arms wrapped securely around me, I decided this was better.

After a while, I pulled into a mom-n-pop diner located in the middle of nowhere. I cut the engine and we climbed off the bike, pulling off our helmets and unzipping our jackets.

"If I were a woman, I'd be afraid you brought me here to rape and kill me," Gabriel said dryly as he looked around.

"Cool your jets, city boy," I retorted with a smile. "What time is it?"

He glanced at his watch. "4:54."

"We made excellent time," I said, looping my arm through his and pulling him toward the restaurant.

"Where are we," Gabriel asked incredulously as he took in the state of the restaurant. I bit back a grin. He really was a city boy, through and through.

"I could give you a name, but this town is so small that I doubt you'd have heard of it. Suffice it to say that we're in the boondocks," I said simply as he held the door open for me.

"Hi, guys," greeted a chipper young waitress, no doubt the owner's granddaughter. "How many?"

"Four please," I said with a smile. I caught Gabriel's surprised look and merely winked at him mysteriously as we walked to a table.

Gabriel courteously pulled my chair out for me. "So, who are we expecting," he asked curiously as he sat down beside me.

I just smiled at him, but stayed silent. In intelligence, Gabriel was above and beyond anyone I'd ever met. I knew that if I caved and gave him a hint, he would figure out the surprise in seconds. I was treated to another one of those piercing stares and I knew the cogs were turning furiously in his mind. I only hoped I hadn't given him any clues accidentally.

It was with some relief that I stood and waved over the tall, older gentleman and his short, redheaded wife. I knew Gabriel was trying to figure out who they were, but I seriously doubted he'd ever seen their faces anywhere before, given how private they were.

"Adam, Viviene, thank you so much for coming," I said, kissing them both. "Guys, this is my boyfriend, Gabriel Gray." Gabriel smiled politely and shook their hands, but regarded them with a curious gaze, still trying to figure it out. "Gabriel, these are my good friends Adam and Viviene Lonogan. You'll know Adam from the pseudonym he writes under, Paen Erikson."

Instantly, Gabriel's eyes widened in surprise and his smile widened, becoming genuine. "It's an honor to meet you, sir."

Mentally, I gave myself a pat on the back. Paen Erikson was Gabriel's undisputed favorite author, a childhood hero even, but the man was a notorious hermit. He was very popular science fiction writer, the Isaac Asimov of our generation, and if anyone was a match for Gabriel's intelligence, it was this man. I had met him through our publishing company when I was first published and Adam had taken me under his wing.

Viviene and I shared a look as the men started talking. If ever there were more like minds, it was those two. Already they were hitting it off, talking about who knows what.

"By the end of the night, you and I might have new competition in our relationships," Viviene said dryly, giving me a wink.

After dinner, we migrated to the Lonogan's house. Gabriel and Adam talked for so long that it was well past midnight by the time we made it back home. It had been a really good night, and I was fairly sure Gabriel would remember it forever. Adam, I knew, was somewhat smitten with Gabriel, given the fact they'd exchanged email addresses, something he never did with fans.

Stifling a yawn, I let us into the apartment.

I began to stumble to the bedroom, but Gabriel stopped me by tugging me into his arms and kissing me sweetly. Too soon, he pulled back and rested his forehead against mine. "Thank you."

I smiled tiredly. "You're welcome. I do have another surprise, or rather, an offer," I amended. I hesitated, suddenly unsure of his answer. "Do you…uh…would you maybe want to move in together?"

He was silent for a moment, and I knew he was thinking seriously about it when he didn't blink. "Yes, I do," he said finally. There was no doubt in his voice.

"In that case," I said, pulling away from him and reaching into my jacket pocket. I pulled out a key. "This is for you."

He smiled and accepted it, instantly pulling out his own key ring and sliding it on there. As he attached the key, I kicked off my boots and tossed my jacket on the couch. I began unbuttoning my blouse as I made my way to the bedroom.

"Oh, and there's one more birthday surprise," I added without looking back at him. I let the blouse fall to the floor, revealing the red and black corset I'd bought that morning.

I grinned mischievously to myself when I heard him chuck the keys on the table. Tonight, Mental Dorothy was getting her way.

0o0o0o0

One of the many wonderful things about Gabriel is that, once he's decided to do something, he does it promptly and enthusiastically. By that weekend, we were moving his stuff into my apartment. Since I had inherited most of my furniture from family members, much of my stuff was better equipped for two people, and Gabriel seemed strangely willing to get rid of much of his old stuff. Given that one of the things he sold was a plastic covered chair, I was 100% ok with this arrangement.

By that Monday, he'd broken his rent contract, and my apartment was a strange and oddly comforting mix of vibrant femininity and subdued masculinity.

"Speak of the devil," I murmured, hearing the key in the lock. I looked up as Gabriel opened the door. "Hey, handsome. How was work?"

He closed the door. "I received an unusual visitor today. He gave me this." Gabriel handed me a textbook.

"Activating Evolution," I read with an arched eyebrow. I flipped it over and read the synopsis with an arched eyebrow. Paranormal abilities as a natural step in evolution? This sounded like something my mom could do. I glanced up at Gabriel. "You have my attention."

He smiled as he came to sit beside me. "That's all I know. His name is Dr. Chandra Suresh. He told me to call him after I've read it." He glanced at the other textbook in my lap and then took in the fedex box filled with more of them. "It seems you have your own reading to do. What's this?"

I placed _Activating Evolution _on the coffee table and handed him the book I'd been reading before he'd come home. "It's research for a story I'm playing around with. All I know is that the main character is a doctor, but I don't even know her name yet."

"_Clinically Oriented Anatomy_," he read, his eyebrow rising in surprise. "You're reading medical textbooks?"

"And regretting never taking an anatomy course in high school. I feel like a five year old trying to read Herodotus. I'm starting to think the medical community just creates fake jargon to mess with silly proletarians," I said dryly, rubbing my forehead tiredly.

Gabriel laughed, a sound I never got tired of, and handed it back. He propped his feet on the table, and I swung my legs over his lap as we opened our respective textbooks and began reading.

A few hours later, head swimming with facts, my gaze flicked up to Gabriel. He'd tossed his glasses on the table, and his face was relaxed as he read, completely absorbed in the book. My eyes drank him in, his thick, dark combed hair neatly into place, the thick eyebrows so often hidden by his glasses, the near-perpetual five o'clock shadow, those fiercely intelligent brown eyes that always warmed and softened when he saw me.

I was in love, I realized with surprise. I hadn't fallen quickly; it had been a gradual thing. But the end result was that I could not, _would _not, live without this man.

I loved that he wore collared shirts and sweater vests; that he couldn't begin tidying a room without scouring the entire apartment; that he could figure out how my car engine worked in a matter of minutes just by examining it, but couldn't cook anything more complex than macaroni and cheese.

I loved that his natural logic balanced out my tendency for reckless spontaneity, and that I brought out his adventurous side. I loved that he was hands-down the most intelligent man I'd ever met.

As if sensing my gaze, he glanced up at me, a questioning half smile on his lips. "What did I do to warrant that look?"

I realized with a start that I had been staring at him with a dreamy smile that now turned self-deprecating. "Just thinking about why I love you." As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to clap my hand over it, but instead sat there looking like a deer in headlights: panicked expression, eyes wide, and totally frozen. Mental Dorothy resolved then and there to look into Batman's ability to vanish instantly.

Gabriel blinked at me, startled. "You love me?"

Mentally, I was pounding Ctrl+Z. "I do," I said slowly instead.

_Please don't panic and run_, I thought at him.

Gabriel looked down at his book, a small smile on his face. He glanced up at me. "I love you, too."

Did I just hallucinate? He loves me? He loves me! Wait, crap, what was the dignified response to that? Do I just smile? Do I thank him? I bit my lip.

"Oh, fuck dignity," I said, throwing my book on the floor and launching myself at him with a grin.

Laughing, Gabriel caught me. He smiled broadly at me as I sat across his lap, my feet dangling off the floor. I loved that he wrapped his arms around me without hesitation, his lips readily meeting mine for a kiss. I enthusiastically planted kisses all over his face as he laughed.

"You are many things, Miss DuValier, but you will never be accused of being too subtle," Gabriel said when I pulled back and lay across his lap, in his arms.

I laughed. "You like it."

He kissed my nose. "Yes, I do."

"I love you," I said again, relishing the ability to say it aloud.

He glanced at _Activating Evolution_, tossed aside for the moment. "Would you love me if I grew a super power and had to start fighting crime in latex?" Mental Dorothy nodded enthusiastically at the image.

"Yes, but in this scenario, I'd prefer not to be typecast as the insipid damsel in distress," I responded. "I think I'd like to be Catwoman."

He arched an eyebrow suggestively. "I believe I can arrange for you to wear a catsuit."

0o0o0o0

I smiled and thanked the cashier as I tucked the bag into my wicker basket and left. It was a beautiful Fall day in New York. The sky was clear and cloudless, and the temperature was cool with a light breeze. Well, cool for everyone else in New York. To a Georgia girl like me, I was freezing. I was starting to realize winter in the north might actually kill me. Still, even as I pulled my jacket tighter around me, I couldn't help admiring the beauty of Fall in New York.

Yet, I couldn't shake the knot of dread in the pit of my stomach. I had nothing to attribute it to, but it had been there when I had woken this morning to find Gabriel already gone.

I desperately wanted to talk to Gabriel, but he had been acting strange…stranger than usual, that is. He kept texting me, but he seemed moody and cranky. It was like he couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to talk to me. If he were a woman, I'd accuse him of being under the thrall of the PMS Avenger. As it was, I was sorely tempted to offer him some Midol and chocolate just to make a point, but I doubted he would find it as funny as I would.

Something was eating at him, I knew that much. He had been so excited about Dr. Suresh's research, but then he'd suddenly become…distant. Maybe it was just disappointment. Whatever it was, Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Suddenly-Taciturn was going to speak if I had to beat it out of him.

However, given that I was not a particularly violent person, I had opted for the softer, more diplomatic approach. I was surprising him with lunch from his favorite restaurant, as well as homemade peach cobbler from my grandmother's recipe. As Momma always said, the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, and who was I to question the wisdom of generations of women.

The bell tinkled lightly as I entered Gabriel's shop. The clocks chimed all around me, and I had to congratulate myself on my timing. 12 o'clock on the dot. Yay me. I locked the door behind me, not wanting to be interrupted when I was (hopefully) having a heart to heart with my boyfriend.

The knot in my stomach was tightening in a very, very bad way when there was no sign of Gabriel. Forcing the irrational panic aside, I set the basket on a glass display case and stepped to the back.

_Fuuuuuuuuuuck._

That was the only word that came to my mind as I took in the man I loved hanging from a noose, standing on a chair. Acting purely on instinct, I grabbed the large pocket knife that went with me everywhere, and flipped it open. Years of competing with my brothers kept my aim true and the knife flew through the air, severing the rope neatly as Gabriel kicked the chair away.

He fell to the floor in an ungainly heap and I ran to him. My hands were shaking as I pulled the rope from his neck and tossed it aside, checking him frantically for any injury. My heart was in my throat as I ran my hands over him, turning his chin this way and that to check for marks.

"Are you alright," I asked frantically as I cradled his head in my hands. "Gabriel, please talk to me."

"Forgive me." His face crumpled and he buried his face in my chest. Instantly, my arms wrapped around him protectively as the strongest man I'd ever known broke down in my arms.

I rubbed his back gently as he cried, silently thanking any listening deity that I had arrived when I did. My hands were shaking as I remembered debating this morning if I should take the time to blow dry my hair. For the first time in my life, I thanked god for my laziness.

_He's ok. He's ok. He's ok. _

"You are not alone," I murmured as he cried, still rubbing his back. "Everything will be alright. I love you. It's ok. Everything will be ok." I crooned the reassurances in his ear, knowing that he needed to hear them, that he needed to cry out whatever had happened.

He cried for a long time, but eventually his tears stopped. I didn't release my protective hold on him. As long as he needed comfort, my shoulder was his.

Finally, he pulled away, his eyes red from crying as he sat up. I took his hands and laced our fingers together as I brushed his hair from his face. The guilt those familiar brown eyes made my heart clench. I kissed the hand I held.

"You are not alone," I repeated earnestly, willing him to read the sincerity and love in my eyes. "Whatever has happened, whatever you think you can't come to me with, it's temporary. It will pass."

"I did something unforgivable," he said.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. I can't." His voice was firm on this, surprising me a little, but I didn't pull away. He seemed to read the quiet patience in my eyes. "A man had something I wanted, and I took it at a terrible price," he said finally after several moments of silence, his gaze now firmly on the floor.

I nodded slowly, accepting that this was all I was likely to get for now. "Gabriel, you're a good man. Whatever happened, nothing can change that."

"You don't know what I've done, Dorothy," he said softly.

"You want proof, eh? Ok." I thought for a moment. "You told me once that you believe in God. I never visit your shop, especially when I'm on a deadline like now, yet I came in at the exact right moment? That's one heck of a coincidence."

He smiled slightly. "You're really not judging me, are you?"

"I'm really not. Everyone hits rock bottom at some point, and my love for you is unconditional." I smiled wryly. "Not to put too fine a point on it, but there ain't no mountain high enough."

He laughed slightly. "Why _are _you here, anyway?"

"I brought lunch. You seemed a little tense lately, and I wanted to cheer you up." I nudged his knee gently before standing and offering him my hand. "Come on, Cool Cat. You'll feel better when you have delicious noms in your belly."

He arched an eyebrow, but accepted my hand without hesitation. "I would accuse you of making up words again, but I know you'll just ignore me."

"So, I got chicken pasta and cheese ravioli. Which one are you in the mood for?" I kept my tone nonchalant, but couldn't the impish grin off my face as I glanced sideways at him.

He shook his head with a smile and accepted the To-Go box I handed him. "I'm beginning to think selective hearing is your super power," Gabriel said dryly. After seeing him weep in my arms, I was relieved to see the smile teasing his face again.

"What was that, dear?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

0o0o0o0

A few days later, I lay on Gabriel's bare chest, my leg thrown over his thighs, enveloped in his comforting, familiar scent. Completely worn out (Fantastic Surprise #48: Gabriel Gray is partial to short satin nightgowns. I had beard burn...everywhere.), I was drifting off to the soothing sound of his heartbeat as he idly ran a hand up and down my back.

"Are you still awake?" His quiet voice rumbled pleasantly through the chest beneath me.

"Mmmhmm."

"Do you remember when I told you about Dr. Suresh?"

I didn't open my eyes. "The geneticist?"

"Yes. Dorothy, there's something you should know." He shifted so that he could look at me, and I finally opened my eyes. His brown eyes were serious as they regarded me. I stayed silent, waiting for him to speak. He took a deep breath. "I manifested."

"You mean you have a power," I clarified, holding his gaze seriously.

"Yes." He was clearly waiting for some sort of reaction.

I arched an eyebrow. "What's your power?" Gabriel was clearly messing with me, but I was curious to see where he was going with this.

"Telekinesis."

So his hook was that he claimed he could move objects with his mind? Ok, I'd bite. "Prove it."

Gabriel stared at me for a second before he moved to sit up against the headboard. Intrigued, I sat up as well, pulling the sheet to cover my bare chest. He made sure I was looking before flicking his finger at the floor.

The blue satin nightgown I'd been wearing only an hour before jumped across the floor, and I knew that this was no trick. There was no way Gabriel could have rigged it between me wearing it and discarding it on the floor. The blood drained from my face as my head spun. My mother had always had an intuition about the future but this was different.

"Say something, Dorothy."

The tension in Gabriel's voice made me glance back at him, and I realized with a start that I'd rigidly straightened and that my hands were visibly shaking. My face was probably as white as the sheet I was clutching to my chest. "You're gonna have to gimme a minute here, darlin'."

Unsteadily, I climbed out of our bed and picked up the nightgown, confirming with my hands that there were no strings or anything that would move it. I could feel Gabriel's eyes on my back, watching me.

"That's some party trick you've acquired," I said lightly after a moment, glancing up at him. He offered a tense smile that quickly faded.

My gaze drifted across his face, across the beard already spreading across his jaw, the nose almost too large for his face, the thick eyebrows so often hidden behind his reading glasses, and the brown eyes I'd come to know so well. My tension eased.

Gabriel watched me nervously as I climbed back in bed. I held his gaze unflinchingly, but my eyes were softer now as I regarded him. "Well, if you decide to join the X-Men, know that I am strictly opposed to yellow spandex."

Whatever cold façade he'd been wearing melted away when he smiled at me and held up his hands. "No yellow spandex, on my honor."

"Ok, then," I said decisively. To reassure him, I crawled into his arms and kissed him gently, relishing that his arms readily wrapped around me and pulled me across his lap. After a moment, I pulled back with a smile. "Show me again."

He grinned and looked at the book on the nightstand. A flick of his finger, and it flew across the room and bounced off the wall. He winced sheepishly. "I'm still trying to get the hang of it."

Now that I was over my shock, I was positively giddy. "Do the water bottle next! Do the water bottle next!" When the plastic water bottle didn't immediately fly across the room, I looked at Gabriel to see him grinning at me, amused by some private joke. "What?

He chuckled and shook his head. "I don't even think you notice it, but whenever you're excited or tense, your accent gets _really_ thick."

I wrinkled my nose at him. "Well, accent or no accent, I want to see you make stuff move some more. It's like the coolest new toy ever."

**Read and Review please! I'm trying to improve my writing, and I can't do that without critiques. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: The next chapter is when stuff really starts picking up. I wanted these first few chapters to lay the groundwork.**

0o0o0o0o0

I banged my head back against the wall in frustration, the thudding reverberating around the apartment. My characters weren't cooperating. I knew my heroine was a doctor, but that was it. I couldn't get inside of her head, couldn't find out who she was. The words simply weren't coming.

I'd spent the several weeks studying these stupid medical textbooks, learning everything I could about general medicine. My brain felt like it couldn't hold any more information, especially since it didn't seem to be getting me anywhere. I felt like I was studying for my residency, and all for a character who was refusing to even tell me her full name, let alone her story.

This was getting ridiculous.

Sighing, I stopped banging my head against the wall. To my surprise, I heard the key turning in the lock. Frowning, I glanced at the Batman clock on the wall (which Gabriel still got a kick out of), realizing that it was way too early for him to be home from work.

The door swung open and Gabriel entered, followed by a handsome, middle aged Indian man. Realizing he had brought home company, I stood politely, suddenly glad that I'd bothered to look presentable today.

"Dorothy, this is Dr. Chandra Suresh," Gabriel introduced. I noticed that he was on edge, though it wasn't apparent to someone who did not know him as well as I did.

I was tempted to arch an eyebrow in surprise, but I managed to keep my face composed. I offered the doctor my hand. "It's truly a pleasure to meet you, Doctor. Please call me Dorothy."

"The pleasure is mine," he said, shaking my hand with a smile.

"Can I get y'all something to drink?"

"Water, thank you," Dr. Suresh said.

"I'm fine," Gabriel said at my questioning look.

"Please, have a seat in the living room," I offered as I went into the kitchen. I returned with the doctor's water to see both men on the couch. "Sorry about the mess," I said as I noticed his gaze lingering on the multiple textbooks scattered everywhere. "I wasn't expecting company."

He accepted the glass. "Oh, it's quite alright. I remember what it's like to be in university."

"Oh, I'm not in school. I'm a writer. I'm just researching for my next book." I shook my head as I took a seat. "But that's neither here nor there. What brings y'all here?"

"Dr. Suresh has a list of people with abilities," Gabriel told me bluntly. "You're on the list."

My eyes widened and flew to Gabriel's. "But that's impossible. I don't have an ability."

"That's what we are here to discover, Dorothy," Dr. Suresh said gently. "Gabriel didn't believe he had an ability either, but now I believe you have seen it firsthand. Honestly, the probability of two such unique individuals finding each other is…astronomical." He looked thrilled.

"He _has_ shown me his ability," I allowed dubiously. "I'm not saying that I don't believe these abilities exist, Doctor. I just don't think that I have one."

"Let me study you," he said, leaning forward eagerly, setting the glass on my coffee table. "My testing may be able to help you assess what power you have. I was right about Gabriel, and I believe that I'm right about you."

I bit my lip uncertainly, my gaze instinctively seeking Gabriel's. "What kind of testing are we talking about here?"

"Nothing dangerous, I assure you," Gabriel said with a tense but reassuring smile. "Studying your brain waves, things like that."

I glanced between the two men, unsure. On the one hand, Mental Dorothy was loudly making comparisons about lab experiments and Frankenstein. On the other hand, the idea of actually having an ability, however remote, was thrilling. Plus, Gabriel would be there. "Well, I suppose there's no harm in trying," I cautiously agreed.

"Excellent," Dr. Suresh said, his eyes bright with anticipation. "Let me give you my information."

I grabbed a notebook from the table beside me and tucked a pen inside before handing it to him. As he moved to accept the book, he accidentally knocked over the glass of water and it shattered as it hit the hardwood floor. "Oh, please forgive me," he said, startled as he reached down to gather it up.

I flapped my hand at him dismissively as I stood. "It's nothing. Let me go get something to clean it up."

A moment later, I returned with a dustpan and rag, only to find the doctor holding his hand and grimacing. "I seem to be singularly uncoordinated today."

"Here, let me see," I said, kneeling beside him, careful of the glass. Gently, I took his hand to see a deep cut across his palm.

Unbidden, all that time spent researching anatomy kicked in, and an image flashed through my mind of how the body was already beginning to heal itself, of blood cells clotting and skin cells knitting together. Paying the thought no mind, I clucked my tongue at the doctor. "This is going to need stitches, I think…"

Both of us froze as the cut began to close in front of our eyes, the blood literally seeping _back_ into the wound as it healed.

"You can heal yourself," I murmured in surprise. Startled, I looked up at Dr. Suresh to see him positively beaming at me.

"My dear, I did not accomplish this," he said gently, his eyes lit up like a Christmas Tree. "This is your doing."

I blinked and sat back on my heels, my gaze seeking Gabriel's once again. He was rigid now, his gaze unblinking, and there was a look in his eyes that my addled brain couldn't process right then.

I closed my eyes and literally shook my head to clear it. "I'm sorry, I think I'm having a divide by zero error. Are you saying that I healed you?" He nodded eagerly. I glanced down at his palm, which now bore no mark. "But I can't heal. It doesn't make sense. Why would it manifest now, of all times?"

As one, we looked at the medical textbooks scattered around my apartment. "This is the first time you've researched medicine," Gabriel said, his voice edgy. I nodded dumbly, though I could almost see the gears turning in his head, his gaze unblinking. "I'd bet your ability to heal depends on your knowledge of the human body."

"It would seem so," I said, still having trouble processing this. Sure, Gabriel had shown me his power, but hearing that _I _now possessed one...proverbial bricks were being shat.

Dr. Suresh looked like he desperately wanted to put me under a microscope, but his phone promptly started beeping. Somewhat grudgingly, he looked at it and turned it off. He sighed. "I'm deeply regretful that I must cut short our visit, but I have an appointment now. Will you come see me?"

I smiled. "If you write down your information without cutting yourself this time, then yes, I will be more than happy to."

Dr. Suresh chuckled. "I shall endeavor to do so." He quickly scribbled down his information and stood. "Gabriel, I shall wait for you outside," he said, glancing between us. "It was a pleasure, Dorothy." We shook hands and he left.

As soon as the door was closed, I looked to Gabriel, who was standing rigidly beside me. Now that I was a little calmer, I realized that the look in my lover's eyes was…fear? He was afraid, though of what I didn't know.

"Are you ok," I asked, stepping up to him and putting a concerned hand on his cheek.

He smiled grimly. "Isn't that my line?"

"Gabriel, you're so tense that I'm worried you'll shatter if I tap you too hard. Why are you anxious?"

He shifted uncomfortably, but seemed to make a decision. "I will tell you tonight, I promise. Will you be ok until then?"

"I think so," I said hesitantly, biting my lip. "I think I just need time to process a little. This visit is to the Atom Bomb what my brain is to Hiroshima."

He chuckled, and the sound rumbled pleasantly against my chest. "An apt comparison. Would you like me to come home early tonight?"

"Yes, please," I said gratefully. I was going to need him here to help me process. Currently, Mental Dorothy was sitting on the floor blinking dumbly, still too stunned to think of any snarky comments.

"I'll be here at five, then," he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment like he was trying to reassure me… or himself? All too soon, he pulled away and headed for the door.

"See you soon," I said, kissing him goodbye briefly as he opened the door.

Dr. Suresh was still in the hall. "Dorothy, you should continue your research in the interim. Focus on general anatomy and how the body heals itself."

"I will, Doctor," I said, fighting the urge to smile; he had sounded very much like a teacher assigning homework. "Have a nice day."

I shut the door behind them and turned back to my apartment. "Well, it seems you and I are going to get much better acquainted," I told the textbooks sternly, hand on my hip. I shook my finger at them. "And I'm not going to take any of your crap this time."

I tried to throw myself into studying with gusto, but the nearer it came to five, the harder it was to concentrate. All I could think of was when Gabriel would be home.

My head was still reeling, but now shock was combined with questions. If my ability was really wrapped around my knowledge of anatomy and medicine, would I need the knowledge of a surgeon? If someone was shot, would I need a doctor's skill, or would I be able to heal that person simply by holding their hand? What about less obvious wounds, such as illness? Would I be able to heal those? Did my ability work on me, or only other people? What about animals?

Shaking my head, I stood and went to the kitchen. There was one question at least that I could find out the answer to. I pulled a knife from the block by the sink and held my hand over the sink. For a few moments, I stayed there, blade pressed against my palm, instinctively unable to force myself to move.

"It can't hurt worse than getting a tattoo," I told myself resolutely. "Get it together, DuValier. This is science."

Mental Dorothy called me an idiot.

Gritting my teeth, I firmly jerked the knife against my palm. "JESUS, MARY, AND JOSEPH!" Squeezing my eyes shut, I silently continued a monologue of cursing that would have made a sailor blush as I pounded the counter with my good palm. Mental Dorothy was now sardonically telling me that she had told me so.

The pain eased after a few moments and I opened my eyes. Blood was flowing freely into the sink, telling me that in my enthusiasm, I'd cut my hand much, much deeper than I'd intended. No wonder it hurt like Hades.

"Ok, woman. Ignore the pain. Hoobah, it hurts. No, I'm ignoring the pain. Ignoring the pain. Focus on healing. Skin pulling together. Is that bone I see? No way. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I'm still bleeding. This is bad. Should I panic? No, no panicking. I'm going to heal this."

Gritting my teeth, I focused on my palm, willing muscle and skin tissue to pull together, for cells to multiply and blood to clot. "Ok, still bleeding. Um…pain receptors!" If I dull the nerves in the area, maybe I would be able to focus better. Right? Right. Dull the nerve endings. Stop the electrical impulses shooting from your hand to your brain. Any moment now the pain will stop. Any second.

"Ok, guess that answers that question. Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. Ok, still bleeding. This can't be good. Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to grab a clean rag and I'm going to take myself to the hospital. I'm also going to think of a plausible excuse for why I tried to cut off my hand that doesn't involve experimental self-mutilation and psychic abilities."

Wrapping a rag around my hand to catch the blood, I cradled my hand to my chest and grabbed my bag.

0o0o0o0

"Quit hovering, Gabriel."

"Why, so you can try to cut off your hand again?"

"I did _not_ try to cut off my hand."

"That's right. You were using a warped version of the scientific method. Where is the nurse, anyway? Shouldn't you be given pain medicine by now?"

I suppressed an amused smile as I watched my normally composed boyfriend pace around the small emergency room alcove. When I had realized that I wouldn't be home before Gabriel, I'd called him to let him know I was alright, and he'd insisted on coming to the hospital.

His hovering was both endearing and extraordinarily aggravating. My hand didn't even hurt anymore, since they had numbed it thoroughly before stitching it up.

Honestly, I thought Gabriel seemed…relieved, for some reason. Worried about me, of course, but the relief on his face when told him quietly that I couldn't heal myself was too genuine to be faked. I knew it must have something to do with his mood this afternoon.

"So what were you going to tell me, Gabriel?"

He stopped pacing to stare at me. "What?"

"This afternoon. You told me you were going to tell me why you were so bothered."

He blinked. "How did you get from pain killers to…nevermind. I probably don't want to know."

"So," I prompted.

For the first time in the months that I'd known him, Gabriel looked unsure of himself. He sat on the bed beside me, opening and closing his mouth several times as he tried to decide what to say. I waited patiently. "Part of my ability is a desire for power," he said at last, his voice cautious as he chose his words carefully. "I… covet the abilities of others."

"Can you take their powers," I asked in surprise.

"I can. That was why I was so worried earlier. The…_hunger_ for power is overwhelming at times. But now that I know I couldn't use it on myself, it is of no use to me. There's no reason to take it, and therefore no desire to." He worded his explanation carefully, watching for my reaction.

I laughed, actually laughed, my nose crinkling with mirth. "Gabriel, are you saying that you were worried you were going to steal it? That's ridiculous. If you wanted it, all you would have to do is ask. I'm not saying I don't love the idea of this power," I said, dropping my voice so that we wouldn't be overheard, "but I love you more."

He was clearly floored by my reaction, and I was being treated to another one of those unblinking gazes as he tried to figure me out. I was so used to it by now that I just grinned back at him. He shook his head after a moment. "You don't understand, Dorothy. I could have…hurt you."

I snorted indelicately. "Love, you're no more capable of hurting me than I am of hurting you." He looked doubtful, and my smile turned gentle as I took his hand in my good one, lacing our fingers together.

I spoke to him like a small, particularly thick child. "Gabriel, when I called you a few hours ago, we both knew I had the hospital situation handled. Yet you still came from Manhattan, _clear across the city_, just to make sure I was alright, all because I cut my hand. Do you really think you could ever hurt me?"

Gabriel blinked several times, a habit I realized with amusement that he had picked up from me. He opened his mouth to say something, but we were interrupted by the arrival of my nurse.

"Here you are, Miss DuValier." I winced slightly as the pretty nurse butchered my last name. DuValier had already been anglicized to 'Doo-vee-yay'. Hearing 'do-valor' never got easier, but I accepted the little cup of painkillers with a smile. "They should start working in a few minutes. And here's your prescription. You've already been discharged, so you can leave as soon as you've taken the pills."

"Thank you very much," I said, smiling at her as she left. "Have a good night."

Gabriel looked pointedly at the little cup when I made no move to take the pills. Badly suppressing a grin, I obediently tipped the cup back and swallowed them, unable to resist sarcastically holding the paper cup upside down to prove I'd taken them. I laughed when Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"You know, I'm not a child," I pointed out good naturedly as I hopped off the bed. "I pay my own bills and everything."

"This, I do not doubt. I do, however, doubt your reasoning skills at the moment," he said, guiding me through the hospital with a hand at the small of my back. "Why didn't you just prick your finger like anyone else?"

I opened my mouth, but no clever retort was forthcoming. He was right, that would have been the better plan. I glanced up back at Gabriel. "Yeah, that would have made more sense."

He rewarded me with a chuckle and the grin I loved so much, shaking his head at me. "Come on, let's get you home."

As we walked out of the hospital, the cool night air of Fall in New York assaulted me. For a few minutes it didn't really affect me. It wasn't until a chill (to me, at least) breeze easily penetrated my clothes that I started shivering. Gabriel noticed as he fell into step at my side, and his gaze softened.

"Still not used to New York," he asked, his voice void of his previous ire.

"This is December weather," I commented a little grumpily as I tucked myself under Gabriel's arm and folded my own over my chest for warmth. "You really aren't fazed by the cold, are you," I realized as I looked up at him.

He looked amused. "Dorothy, it's not cold. It's nice out."

I muttered under my breath about crazy New Yorkers and their immunity to temperature. I knew, just _knew_, Gabriel was rolling his eyes, but he pulled me to a stop. My head was feeling fuzzy, and it took me a moment to realize that he was shrugging off his sweater and wrapping it around my shoulders.

I smiled dreamily up at him as he began rubbing my arms through the material to warm me up. "You're really handsome, did you know that?"

His eyes widened in surprise as he looked down at me, before realization crossed his face and he smiled. "I take it the pain medicine is kicking in." He sounded amused.

"I also like your stubble," I said, raising a hand to caress his five o'clock shadow. "It always tickles me, but I like the feel of it when you kiss me. It's all…" my muddled brain floundered for words, "stubbly."

Gabriel arched an eyebrow. "I'm glad you approve."

I nodded seriously. "And you know what else? I like your eyes. They're so easy to read. Like, right now, they're laughing at me, which I think is not very nice." I gave him a stern look to prove my point, and the brown eyes looked even more amused. "But if I step closer," I stepped so that I was against his chest, for science, "your eyes get all smoldery and dark. Yeah, like that. And when I run my fingers through your hair like this, your eyes go all 'I'm going to do delicious things to you', like they're doing now."

Gabriel growled as he grabbed my face with both hands and kissed me. I sighed and melted against him as his tongue danced with mine, his mouth slanting over mine again and again as he kissed me senseless. When he finally pulled back, I was breathless.

We walked the rest of the way home with our arms around each other. Gabriel put me to bed and crawled in behind me, wrapping his strong arms around my waist and pressing a kiss to my shoulder. Feeling warm, safe, and very, very drugged, I began to drift off, almost not catching the words Gabriel whispered.

"I love you so much. I could never hurt you."

I didn't open my eyes, but I felt him start when I patted his arm sleepily. "I love you, too, Gabriel."

0o0o0o0o0

Drifting in the warm blackness between sleep and wakefulness, I was vaguely aware that my hand ached. Sleepily, I scratched it…

"Jesus Christ!" Cradling my hand and groaning, I sat up in bed, mentally cursing myself.

"What's wrong?" Gabriel's voice was all sleep gravely and I looked back to see I'd accidentally woken him.

"My brain just trolled me," I said dryly, wincing as I gingerly flexed my hand. "Go back to sleep, Mr. Sexy Stubble." A glance at the cell phone on my bedside table told me it was 9 a.m. Might as well wake up, given that I wasn't going to be sleeping again anytime soon.

Careful of my hand, I climbed out of bed, trying not to disturb Gabriel more than I already had. My hand felt like it was on fire. Quietly, I went about my morning routine, silently cursing as I puzzled out how to do everything one handed.

It wasn't until I climbed in the shower and my hair was soaking that I realized I had something of a problem. I was under strict orders not to get my hand wet, yet washing myself while holding one hand out of the spray would be a challenge.

The shower curtain slid open at the back and I jumped about a foot in the air. "Holy slasher fic, Batman! You scared the crap out of me."

Gabriel chuckled as he stepped into the shower with me, and I spent a good few seconds admiring the view. He kissed me good morning, careful to keep my hand dry. "I figured you could use some help."

I turned back into the spray and grinned impishly over my shoulder at him. "Read: 'I had a viable excuse to see you naked.'"

He slapped my backside playfully, startling a laugh out of me, and I glanced back to see him grinning at me. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, woman."

Grinning, I held my hands up in surrender. He put a little of my strawberry shampoo in his hands and began working it into my hair. "Oh my _god_," I purred, my eyes fluttering shut. "This is better than chocolate. You know what, this is better than Super Fudge Chunk."

He laughed. "We aim to please."

"Mmmmm." All too soon, I was tilting my head back in the spray to rinse my hair. When I opened my eyes again, Gabriel was looking at me with dark eyes, his desire readily apparent in more ways than one as his gaze traveled slowly down my body. The heat and promise in that look sent heat shooting straight to my belly.

Much to Mental Dorothy's glee, Gabriel made sure I was _thoroughly_ clean, and the water ran cold by the time we climbed out on shaking legs. Grinning and laughing as we scrambled out of the icy water, we kissed again as we wrapped towels around ourselves.

When he moved to go to the bedroom, I slapped his backside, returning his earlier gesture with a mischievous smile.

It took me forever, but eventually, I managed to get myself dried and dressed. My hand was throbbing and aching when I finished, but I didn't want to take more painkillers. I already knew I had an addictive personality from my rather eventful bout with alcoholism, and I didn't want to risk getting addicted to something harder. I sighed as I towel dried my hair. It was Advil or nothing.

In a happy mood after our shower activities, I followed the smell of cooking eggs to the kitchen to find Gabriel was cooking breakfast for us.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned against the wall, admiring the sight of him in pajama bottoms and nothing more. The muscles of his broad back rippled as he went about making breakfast, and my wandering eyes took in his broad shoulders and the well-muscled arms usually hidden by his clothes.

As if he could sense my gaze, Gabriel turned and saw me standing there ogling him. He smiled and kissed me. "How is your hand?"

"Hurts like a moth…" I blushed and changed my words. Pain shouldn't make me any less of a lady. "It's a little sore."

His lip twitched like he was trying not to laugh. "Your painkillers are on the counter."

I shrugged and moved to where we kept the Advil. "I don't think I'll be taking the prescription stuff."

"Why not," he asked, watching me struggle to open the bottle one handed. After a moment, he took it from me and popped off the top before handing me two pills. Grinning my thanks, I swallowed them dry and put the recapped bottle back into the cabinet.

"I don't want to risk addiction, however slight the risk might be." Gabriel nodded and adjusted the heat of the stove. "Hey, I have an idea," I said, changing the subject with a smile. "I really want to learn more about this new power. We should go see Dr. Suresh today."

Gabriel shrugged. "Ok."

"Woah, tone down your enthusiasm, cowboy," I said sarcastically.

He smiled and shook his head. "We can go see him. I'll call and see if he's free."

Pleased, I grinned and kissed him, pulling back when my cell phone started ringing. "Thank you," I said before prancing off to get the phone.

My agent was calling, telling me that the publishing company still hadn't received my consent form, and was getting testy. I grimaced. I'd signed the form days ago, but kept forgetting to mail it. I assured her sheepishly that I would do it right after we hung up.

"My bad," I said as I set the phone down. Gabriel, who had been listening to the conversation as he finished cooking breakfast, held out the envelope with an eyebrow arched in amusement. "I know, I know. But don't you dare say 'I told you so'," I warned as I accepted the envelope. "I'll be right back."

I walked downstairs and put the envelope in the buildings outgoing mailbox. As I turned around to go back inside, I accidentally bumped into someone. "Oh, sorry. Hey, cool glasses."

"Thank you," the tall man said, adjusting his horn-rimmed glasses. His gaze flickered over my shoulder as I moved to go around him, and I turned to see a tall black man behind me. I offered a warm smile at both men and turned back to the door.

0o0o0o0o0

**Please review! I can see this story is getting traffic. Just because I've written it already doesn't mean your feedback and ideas won't inspire me to change things. Feedback, constructive criticism or just "Hey, I liked this chapter", is always appreciated.**


	5. Chapter 5

0o0o0o0o0

As soon as I opened my eyes, I knew something was wrong. I had no idea where I was or how I had gotten there. My first instinct was to panic, but I forced it aside. Panicking was for later, when I was safe in my own bed and back in Gabriel's arms. Right now, I needed to be calm and focused.

If I had been attacked by aliens, I was going to be super pissed.

Strengthened by the random and irrational thought, I sat up. My body felt strange, lethargic, and I realized I must have been sedated. I grit my teeth when I realized that, not only had some stranger stuck needles in my arm and sedated me against my will, but they had also taken the liberty of changing my clothing. I was wearing something you would find at a mental institution.

Mentally moving on, I took in my surroundings. The room I was in looked unsettlingly like cell in Guantanamo, with concrete walls and no windows, and a steel door without a handle. My bed was facing a large mirror that I reasoned was a two way. For all I knew, there were people behind it watching me right now. Even if there weren't, there was a camera mounted in the corner of the room, a little red light flashing rhythmically.

The next question on my list was how long I had been there, unconscious and vulnerable. Thinking quickly, I looked at my hand. Someone must have changed the bandages, because these weren't the ones I had put on after my shower. Gingerly, I unwrapped the dressing and looked at my palm. The cut was still there, but had healed enough that my stitches had been removed.

I knew from my medical textbooks that, given the depth and width of the cut, I'd probably been there around a week for it to be this far along. Good lord, Gabriel and my family must be worried sick.

Well, they certainly had good reason to be.

I looked around, wondering what to do next. I should see how my body is doing, I reasoned. Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I carefully stood up and took a few tentative steps. Other than residual lethargy from whatever sedative I'd been given, my body felt fine.

Light in the room behind the mirror flicked on, momentarily blinding me. When my vision cleared, I recognized the man standing there. It was the man with horn-rimmed glasses, the one I'd bumped into.

"Look, whoever you think I am, you have the wrong woman," I told him.

He flipped open the folder in his hand. "Dorothy Jean DuValier, 23, from Rome, Georgia. Daughter of James Franklin DuValier and Dorothy Elizabeth DuValier nee McKenna. Authored 14 novels under the pseudonym Christian McKenna. Recovering alcoholic, active AA member for three years."

I had to give him credit for even pronouncing my last name correctly. "Ok, so you have the right woman. What do you want?"

He continued reading. "Convicted for public drunkenness, minor in possession, breaking and entering, trespassing on government property, destruction of government property, and harassing a police officer."

I eyed him warily. "Those were expunged from my record when I turned 18. I'm not that person anymore."

"High School GPA of 1.3," he continued, ignoring me, "yet consistently tested at the top of your class. You received an almost perfect score on the SAT."

He snapped the folder shut and looked at me. Silence reigned. "What do you want," I asked at last.

"You have a particularly useful gift, and the company I work for wants to train you."

Whatever I was expecting, this wasn't it. "So you kidnapped and unlawfully imprisoned me," I said incredulously.

"There was also something else we wanted, something that only your prolonged absence could achieve."

I arched an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

"To study Mr. Gabriel Gray, a.k.a. Sylar."

I crossed my arms and pursed my lips defiantly. "Gabriel doesn't have an alias. He's a watchmaker and a good man."

"He's a murderer, Miss DuValier. And in your absence, he's killed again to collect powers."

I was unimpressed. "And I should take your word for that, should I?"

"Frankly, I don't care if you believe it or not. I follow orders, and my orders are to ensure your compliance."

I clenched my jaw. "And I suppose you have a clever plan to ensure that."

"If you work for us as a healer, we leave Gabriel alone. If you don't, we wipe your mind and release you, but we go after Gabriel and show him exactly what we do best." There was no inflection in the man's voice, no emotion.

I knew exactly what he was doing, of course. By remaining vague about 'what we do best', he suggested something negative, but allowed my mind to fill in the blanks. The unknown was always infinitely more terrible than any specific punishment. As an author, I used the trick frequently.

Being aware of the trick, however, didn't make it any less effective.

He had me and we both knew it.

0o0o0o0o0

Swallowing hard, I finished braiding my hair out of my face, my eyes wide and frightened in the mirror. My training was to start today, and they'd given me scrubs and sneakers to wear, and good lord I was terrified. They said they were going to give me medical training, teach me how to use my ability.

I squared my shoulders, willing the fear out of my eyes as I regarded my reflection. "I will be brave."

Mental Dorothy doubted it very much.

There was a quick knock before the steel door of my cell swung open, admitting Horn Rimmed Glasses and a tall, built man in his mid-thirties wearing doctor's scrubs. "Dorothy, this is Dr. George Draston. He's going to be your teacher."

I shook the man's hand warily. "Do you have an ability, too?"

"No, no. I'm just your normal surgeon," he said with a polite smile. He was clearly a man's man, with calloused hands and a no-nonsense air about him. There was something about the way he carried himself that made me think he might have a military history. I returned his smile a little timidly.

"Dr. Draston, I'll leave her with you," Horn-rimmed glasses said as he left, leaving the door open behind him.

"Let's get started, shall we," Dr. Draston offered, his tone not really implying a question. He was clearly used to people following his orders without question. This man was going to be a hard teacher, but I suspected I would probably learn more from him than anyone else.

Hesitantly, I nodded and followed Dr. Draston out of the room. Every door we came to was equipped with a security scanner that George swiped his card through, even the elevator. As we rode up more than a few levels, I realized that I'd been held several stories underground.

Clearly, I had underestimated the company whose name I still didn't know.

"So, where did you graduate medical school," I asked to distract myself as we left the elevator and made our way through the long corridors.

He rattled off some medical school I'd never heard of. "I was a U.S. Army trauma surgeon for a while. I served two tours in Iraq." He swiped his card. "You must have some extraordinary ability," he added, studying me openly. "They offered me a huge bonus to teach you. You've never been to medical school?"

I snorted indelicately. "I've never even taken an anatomy class, although I started studying some medical textbooks a few weeks ago. I was researching for a character."

"Actress?"

"Writer," I corrected. I frowned at him, considering his question. "They didn't tell you anything about me, did they?"

"No. I have my orders, and they don't involve asking questions. All I know is that you evidently have some ability to heal and that I'm supposed to teach you." I didn't say anything to that. What was there to say? We lapsed into silence for a minute, until Dr. Draston reached a set of double doors. I was surprised when he gave me a genuine grin as he swiped his card. "This is the cool part."

I arched an eyebrow in curiosity as we pushed open the double doors. Behind them looked like a miniature Emergency Room. Beds lined the walls surrounded by curtains and nurses in the same blue scrubs that I was wearing.

The Company, whose name I still didn't know, was into some extraordinarily shady things, that much was obvious. It was as well-equipped as a hospital, but many of the patients we passed were strapped to their beds. The ones who weren't were clearly agents, judging by their sharp suits.

What really struck me, however, was how quiet it was here. Given how klutzy I was, I'd been in a fair share of Emergency Rooms, and I'd never seen one so quiet and well-organized. Everything and everyone worked together like one of Gabriel's time pieces. This clearly wasn't a place where chaos was tolerated.

"Alright," Dr. Draston said, rubbing his hands together. He was clearly in his element. "Now, you said you had been studying medical textbooks, right? Let's get started."

I bit my lip unsurely as I followed him to a desk. He picked up a chart and flipped it open. I had never actually seen one before, but it looked simple enough to use. My rough introduction to medical terminology didn't help me here, though, as I studied the chart beside Draston. "I think I'm gonna need flashcards."

Draston laughed and smiled down at me. "You'll get the hang of it, trust me. It's not as scary as it looks. For now, though, I want to test you, see what your power does. Follow me."

Nervously and feeling more than a little overwhelmed, I followed him to one of the beds. There was a man laying on it, texting and looking bored. His injuries weren't readily apparent. He was clearly an agent, however, judging by his suit.

"Mr. Clarkson, I'm Dr. Draston, and this is my assistant Dorothy."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," the man said politely, but it was clear he was bored.

"Ok, Dorothy, what's wrong with him," Draston quizzed me calmly.

I blinked at him with my jaw on the floor. "I…I don't know."

Dr. Draston nodded patiently. "What can your ability tell you? Feel free to touch him." I stared at him for a moment before swallowing hard. Evidently, I was being thrown in the deep end. Taking a deep breath, I decided to follow my instincts, and found myself taking the patient's hand.

My eyes drifted shut, and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. Forcing aside my nervousness, I tried to let my ability take over.

There was the strangest sensation at the back of my mind, pleasant, but indescribable. I focused on it, and suddenly realized I could sense the man's body. I could feel his heartbeat, slow and steady, the ebb and flow of blood in his veins, the contraction and release of his diaphragm.

There was an energy there, strong and bright, that surrounded and integrated into everything. With amazement and joy, I realized that the energy was the essence of life in a living creature.

It was the most incredible, indescribable, almost spiritual moment I'd ever had, and I knew I would never be the same after this. For better or worse, I was a healer now.

The energy and most of his blood were centered in his arm. There was a hole there, and I didn't know how I hadn't seen it before. He must have been stabbed or something, and while the wound wasn't dangerous, it was deep.

I pulled back into myself and opened my eyes.

"You look like you just saw God," Mr. Clarkson said in amusement.

I thought maybe I had. I glanced at George. "He has a stab wound to his left bicep."

"Very good." Draston looked pleased. "Now, can you fix it?"

"Yes." My reply was immediate and honest. I could heal the wound.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Draston's tone was stern. Mental Dorothy gave a rather sarcastic salute.

Eagerly, I took the man's hand again and focused myself. It was easier to do so this time, and I focused on pulling the muscle together.

A sharp cry stopped me, though, and I opened my eyes to see Mr. Clarkson grimacing and glaring at me. "What the hell was that?"

I cleared my throat, resisting the urge to glance at Draston or to apologize. I refocused myself, the action getting easier every time I did it. This time, however, instead of pulling the muscle together, I focused on deadening the nerves in the area. Most of what I was doing was guess work and feeling my way blindly, but when I began to heal the wound this time, there was no complaint.

Feeling a little clumsy (strange, given that I wasn't physically doing anything), I focused on cells multiplying and muscle tissue repairing itself. As an afterthought, I paid attention to the miniscule bacteria cells in the now closed wound and snuffed them out. Before I pulled out, I reactivated the nerve endings in the area.

When I pulled out after a while, I was satisfied that there would be no scarring and that he would have full use of the arm back. It was as if he'd never been stabbed.

"I see you're with us again," Mr. Clarkson said with a little amusement. "30 minutes? Stitches would have been faster."

I bit my lip, realizing I had no idea how much time had passed. George had evidently wandered off. "Well, you're completely healed now. No scarring and no risk of infection. How do you feel?"

"Great. Strangely tired, but otherwise fine. Am I cleared to go?"

"Uh, let me find Dr. Draston. I don't know if there's paperwork or not. Stay here." I stepped away, but caught sight of my teacher only a few feet away, talking with another patient. He came over when he caught my eye.

After briefly checking my work, he stepped back. "You're good to go, then, Mr. Clarkson." The agent swung his legs over the side of the bed and walked away.

"Alright, what did you learn, Dorothy?" Draston's arms were crossed over his chest, and I felt the momentary urge to stand at attention.

I cleared my throat. "I learned how to feel a patient, and how to see where the damage is. I also learned that I have to deaden the nerves before healing. And…" I hesitated, uncertain if I should say it or not, "I think I learned that I use a mix of my energy and the patient's to heal."

"And what does that imply?"

To my credit, I didn't shift uncomfortably, though I wanted to. I met his stern green eyes firmly. "It implies that my ability to heal is limited to the patient's own stamina."

"Expand."

My mind buzzed and I frowned as I thought, my gaze drifting instinctively to where Mr. Clarkson had been moments before. "If there is a great deal of damage, I might have to repair it in sessions."

"Good." Draston nodded and abruptly began walking away. "Next patient." I scrambled to follow him.

0o0o0o0o0

Draston was a phenomenal teacher, which was incredibly surprising considering he'd eventually confessed that, the first day, he knew as little as I did about healing with my gift.

He had no compunctions about throwing me in at the deep end. My days, from sun up to sun down, were filled with patients, textbooks, and a near-constant barrage of questions to test my knowledge. It had the desired effect, however, as I was improving both my knowledge and healing by leaps and bounds.

My ability to heal was like a muscle; the more I healed, the more I _could_ heal. Human anatomy for me was a matter both of visual and mental acuity. After six months under Draston's tutelage, I could give the clinical term for every inch of the human body, and tell you exactly how they felt like when they were functioning normally.

A first, I sunk, drowning in water way above my head. Then, gradually, I gained confidence and struggled to the surface. Now I was comfortably doing the backstroke. Since I didn't need to learn things like how to do surgery or how to diagnose from symptoms, I cut out about 90% of a medical degree, yet was still more effective.

Draston had taught me incredibly well, and I think we had achieved mutual respect, even friendship, which was surprisingly unexpected.

On the other hand, as thrilled as I was with my progress, I was a captive here. I wasn't given a security key, and had to be escorted by someone any time I needed to leave the medical wing. I had no cell phone, only a beeper for my patients, and zero contact with the outside world.

I knew my parents would know I was alive, if only from my mother's gift of foresight. I wondered if Gabriel thought I'd abandoned him. At least my captivity bought him his freedom.

"Dorothy!" I glanced up from the patient chart I was filling out (I could understand medical charts now!) to see Draston approaching me. I smiled in greeting. "I have a new patient for you."

"Oh, you always know how to show a girl a good time."

He rolled his eyes "This one requires your unique skill set. Some Thumbscrew has almost killed his patient." The condescending term was how we on the Emergency end of the medical wing referred to the doctors who specialized in interrogating prisoners. They were notorious for viewing their Hippocratic Oaths more like suggestions. "Orders are to keep him alive at all costs, but the idiot gave him 50 milligrams of Glycemerine, so Thumbscrews called us in."

I raised an eyebrow. Glycemerine was one of the drugs created by the company to forcibly manifest powers. I'd never had to use it, but I knew it was incredibly volatile. "50 milligrams? That's enough to drop a rhinoceros."

"That was my reaction, too."

I flipped the binder shut and turned to him. "I can't heal the dead, Draston. If he's got that much in him, there's no way I can heal him in time prevent his heart from stopping."

He gave me a stern look. "You have orders, Doctor."

I shot him a look and held up a finger. "One, I'm not a doctor, so stop calling me that."

"On the contrary, rumor has it that the company likes your work and is going to award you a doctorate. Now, come on."

I blinked and didn't move. "Can they do that?" The look he gave me clearly asked where'd I'd been the last six months. "Right, of course they can. Well, super. Alright, so ignore point number one. Number two…really, they're giving me a doctorate? That's awesome. GAH! Release me, vile cur! Draston! _I'm going! I'm going!" _

A chart was thrust into my hands by the aforementioned vile cur as he tugged me along down the hallway by my arm. Trusting my mentor not to accidentally run me into anything, I flipped open the chart and started reading.

No name was given, to my surprise, but it seemed the individual had several unknown abilities, though telekinesis was the only confirmed power. The patient's last several recorded vital were alarming low and unstable, unsurprising given how much Glycemerine was in his system. "Jesus, he mixed Glycemerine and Haloperidol? No wonder his patient is circling the drain."

"Evidently the patient is extremely dangerous, so they wanted to keep him sedated as well," Draston commented as he steered me into an elevator.

"What's the patient's name? It's not on the chart."

"I have no idea. This is another one of those 'don't ask questions' scenarios."

I rolled my eyes. "Aren't they all?"

Deep below the ground, the elevator came to a stop and we got off and began the long trek to the prisoner wing. There were two seemingly unrelated buildings above ground that served as fronts for the company, Primatech Paper and the other an apartment building for the company's housed employees, such as me. Beneath the ground, however, the buildings were linked by a labyrinth of levels and corridors.

I tucked the binder under my arm as we approached the prisoner's cell. As had become habit, I was already forming a tentative plan for my patient. Outside the patient's cell, we were met by the Thumbscrews who had messed up so badly.

"Dr. Alexander," I greeted coolly. We'd met several times, usually when I had to patch up one of the poor people with the bad luck to get under his care. Away from his hearing, Draston and I referred to him as Dr. Not-Too-Proud-To-Beg, for all the times he asked us to fix his mistakes.

"_Miss_ DuValier," he replied, putting emphasis on the fact that I didn't have a medical degree. Whatever, I was still a better doctor, even if he had graduated from Harvard.

"Where's Bennet," Draston asked, referring to Horn-Rimmed Glasses.

"Evidently there's some police snafu upstairs." I grinned internally. Most people didn't realize snafu was actually a sarcastic military acronym for Situation Normal: All Fucked Up. I'd learned that little gem from Draston. "He's going to be there for a while. And no, he is not aware I called you."

"Of course not," Draston said dryly. "Just like every other time."

I smothered a smile. Dr. Alexander swiped his card and let us in. When he began to follow us inside, both Draston and I turned and stared him down. There was a silent standoff for a moment, but finally Dr. Alexander sighed and stepped out.

My heart stopped when I caught sight of the patient on the table.

_Gabriel_.

The patient circling the drain was _my Gabriel._

Not wanting to alert Draston that anything was out of the ordinary, I calmly approached Gabriel. He was unconscious, his eyes red-rimmed in stark contrast to the sickly pallor of his skin. What had they done to him? Mentally, I checked the question. I knew exactly what they had done, and rage began to simmer in my veins. So much for 'work for us and he goes free'.

I sat beside him and took his hand, instantly focusing on him. My focus was razor sharp from anger, and I went in deep. I already knew his heartbeat from so many nights sleeping with my head on his chest, nights that I missed so much. Now, though, his heartbeat was weak, slow, and arrhythmic. As always with full body work, I shut down the part of his brain that processed pain. Even though Gabriel was unconscious, I hated the thought of him being in any discomfort.

I pulled out just enough to speak to my partner. "I've got it, Draston. You can go ream Dr. Thumbscrew up one side and down the other if you want."

He clapped his hands together, blissfully unaware that everything wasn't ok. "Excellent."

I waited until the door shut and I knew we were alone before leaning down to Gabriel, brushing his forehead gently. "It's ok, Gabriel. I'm here now. I'll take care of you." The reassurance was more for my sake than his, but saying it made me feel better.

Placing a hand on his chest for better focus, I closed my eyes and centered myself before going into him. Liver first, I decided. He needed to get rid of the toxins in his body, and his liver and kidneys were shot from the abuse. His energy was so low and weak that I had to use my own to repair the organs, regenerating them at a rapid rate.

Satisfied that his blood was now being cleaned, I shifted my focus to his heart. The combination of Glycemerine and Haloperidol were wreaking havoc on his heart, not to mention his body's natural rhythm. Again, I used my own energy to strengthen the heart, repairing the muscle, knowing that I had to do a lot of healing in the very short period of time before Bennet came back, and my reserves of energy were larger than his.

As his heartbeat strengthened and normalized, his other vitals stabilized as well. I moved from his heart to his brain, knowing that would be where the Glycemerine would have done the most damage, as it was a neurostimulant. Sure enough, neurons were fried or dying. The brain required a much more delicate touch than I normally used, because it was so complex.

With more finesse than I thought I had in me, I gently regenerated the dead cells and soothed spasmodically firing neurons. I was surprised, however, at how unusual his brain was compared to the others I had worked on. It looked…well, it looked a little like a piece of paper heavily edited with a pencil; pieces were erased and written over again. I'd never seen anything like it.

Having handled the immediate dangers, I turned my attention to older wounds that were undoubtedly causing him pain. There was poorly healed damage that looked like he'd fallen from some great height and then sloppily patched up afterwards. Not wanting to focus on the implications, I finished healing the damage and fixed places that hadn't healed correctly.

At last, I pulled back a little and assessed my work. His blood was much cleaner now thanks to his liver and kidneys, his vitals were stable and strong, and his energy, though still low, was much brighter now. He was infinitely better. Out of habit, I started to restore the pain receptors in his brain, but stopped myself. Maybe it was better if he couldn't feel pain for a while. There was no telling what these bastards would do to him.

Finally, I pulled out and opened my eyes, starting slightly when I realized Gabriel was awake and staring at me, though he was still so weak he was laying in that same awkward position. I glanced around to make sure no one was watching. Satisfied we were alone, I gently stroked his bearded cheek with the backs of my fingers as I leaned down to whisper in his hear. "It's ok, Gabriel," I murmured. "I'll find a way to get us out of here, I promise. I still love you."

I pressed a chaste, lingering kiss to his lips before straightening. His eyes followed me as I stood and went to the door. After indulging in a longing look at Gabriel, I closed my eyes and knocked on the door; 'Shave and a haircut, two pence.'

The door swung open and I exited swiftly without a backwards glance. My mask was back on. "Did you fix him," Dr. Alexander asked.

I suddenly wished my power was laser vision as I stared down Dr. Thumbscrew. I so badly wanted to hurt him like he had hurt Gabriel, but I couldn't. My priority was to get Gabriel out of this horrible place. "Yes, I have once again fixed your mistake, you toolbag. And the next time I find out you've given a patient enough Glycemerine to fell a horse, not to mention mixing it with Haloperidol, I will personally see your medical license revoked."

Draston followed me as I stormed away, looking more than a little amused. "I applaud the verbal bitchslap, but six months in my company and 'toolbag' was all you could come up with? I feel like I've failed you somehow."

"I'm still a lady, no matter how much I loathe the cretin."

"'Loathe the cretin'," Draston repeated. "See, that's how I know you aren't lying about being a writer. Anyone else would have said 'hate the bastard.'"

I eyed him as we stepped into the elevator. Draston was not a chatty person. He was never unkind, but taciturn was putting it lightly. "What?"

"What what?"

His tone was innocent. I turned to him with my hands on my hips. "You're being weird. Why are you being weird?"

He hesitated, then pushed a button to halt the elevator. My eyebrow rose. "You snapped at Dr. Alexander."

I frowned, dropping my hands from my hips. "So?"

"In the six months I've known you, you've never been unkind to someone. You're nice to everyone, even when you hate them. You don't even raise your voice. But you snapped at Dr. Alexander, which means something's up."

I crossed my arms, silently cursing myself for being so transparent. "That doesn't explain the chattiness."

He ran a disgruntled hand through his hair. "I was trying to get you to talk to me, but I don't do…feelings."

Surprised, my arms fell to my side, and I pretty sure my jaw hit the floor. "You want to…talk it out," I paraphrased slowly.

"You don't have to say it like _that_," he muttered. "I'm not a completely unfeeling bastard."

I smiled at him. "No, you're not. You've just never shown an interest in how I feel."

"Well, I do care about how you feel," he snapped. Then he sighed. "I like you Dorothy. You're the one person I don't want to strangle when I talk to."

I blinked at him dumbly. "I'm legitimately unsure how to take that. Thanks?"

"Christ, I'm fucking this up. Dorothy, I'd like to take you to dinner and observe other superfluous dating rituals with you."

Was this really happening? As in, right now? When I had just saved the man I'd essentially consigned myself to prison for and promised to rescue him? Now? Really? If there was a God, he had a sick sense of humor.

"Draston, I'm a prisoner here. I mean, I'm _literally_ a prisoner here. Didn't you ever notice that I've never been given a security key, or the fact that I _never_ leave?"

It was Draston's turn to blink dumbly. "I just assumed that you didn't like to use your card, and that you liked your job."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. What a nightmare. "No. The company blackmailed me into working for them. I'm pretty much their indentured servant."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Awkward silence. I heard him press a button and the elevator resumed with a jolt.

"Er…maybe we should forget that I asked…"

"Yeah, let's do that."

0o0o0o0o0

When I arrived at the medical wing the next day, it was all I could do not to fidget restlessly. After spending all night brainstorming, I'd come up with plan. Admittedly, it was full of holes the size of Alaska (secret agent, I was not), but I was determined to get Gabriel out or die trying, which, unfortunately, was a distinct possibility given who I was working for.

All I needed was a reason to go down to him, and for once, I was grateful at how crappy a physician Dr. Alexander was. Hours seemed like days, and I jumped about a foot in the air every time my pager went off.

"You're all set," I told my latest patient with a smile. "You won't even have a scar."

"Good," the agent replied tersely as she stood. She picked her coat up off the chair and made a beeline for the exit.

"Jeez. You pull an axe out of someone's leg, you'd think they'd at least be gracious about it," I muttered at Aurelia, the nurse who was working today.

She laughed as she gathered the bloodied sheets. "The kind of person who gets an axe buried in their leg isn't the kind of person to say thank you. These agents aren't like you and me, babe."

"Amen to that. So how did your date with Jose go? You never told me."

Aurelia smiled so brightly that I was temporarily blinded. She dropped the sheets into the hamper and snapped off her latex gloves, revealing a huge rock on her hand.

"He proposed? Oh my god, congratulations!" I hugged her warmly before taking her hand. "Good Lord, if it were any bigger it would have a gravitational pull."

"And yet, I'm fine with that."

"So how did he–" My beeper cut me off mid-sentence and my heart began racing when I saw the code: 911-5-7. Emergency, level five, cell 7.

Gabriel.

Calmly, I clipped my beeper back onto my waistband. "It's a 911 on level 5. Can I borrow your passkey? Thumbscrew has struck again." Aurelia had been one of my first friends at the company, and I felt a surge of guilt at betraying her, but I shrugged it off. Gabriel was more important.

"Yeah, sure." Aurelia pulled off her badge and handed it to me.

"Awesome, thanks," I said, taking off at a run down the hall to the elevator. It was common procedure to take off at a run when you received a 911, so I wasn't worried about attracting attention.

After what seemed like an eternity, the elevator stopped on level 5 and I sprinted off as soon as the doors were wide enough. The door to Sylar's cell was ajar, probably in anticipation of my arrival, and I rushed in to see Gabriel strapped to the block, Dr. Alexander frantically administer CPR. A glance at the monitor told me he had flat lined.

"Get out," I snapped, my hands on Gabriel's chest before I'd even come to a stop. I threw myself into him, seeking his heart. I flooded his heart with energy to restart it.

His heart stuttered back to life, but that was all I needed. I 'manually' kept his heart beating at a normal rhythm while I frantically repaired the damage to the rest of his body.

I didn't pull out until I was satisfied that Gabriel was in no immediate danger. He needed much more healing, but I only had one chance for this plan to work, and I wasn't going to waste it.

Double checking that Dr. Alexander had indeed left, I pulled off the wires connecting Gabriel to the heart monitor. The machine registered a flat line.

Gently, I went back into Gabriel. The idiot really _had_ killed him; Gabriel's energy was running on empty, but it would work in our favor. In the unlikely event that Dr. Alexander double checked that Gabriel was dead (he really was a crappy doctor, and rarely checked my work), Gabriel's heartbeat and vitals would be so low that he wouldn't detect them.

I poured my own energy into Gabriel. It would keep him alive and conscious long enough for him to make an escape. The rest was up to him.

Though he showed no outward signs of it, Gabriel was both alive and conscious now. I knew I would probably never get the chance to see him again; Bennet and the others would flay me alive for this.

I leaned down to whisper in his hear, simultaneously slipping Aurelia's security key under Gabriel's hand. "This is the only chance I can give you. Don't let me down, and don't look back."

Unable to stop myself, I pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, committing the moment to memory. After all, memory is all I would likely have for a long time.

I stood up and went to the closed door. 'Shave and a haircut, two bits'. The door swung open, and Dr. Alexander stepped in. I applauded him sarcastically. "Your ability to accidentally kill people is truly extraordinary, Doctor. Is that something they teach in medical school, or did you pick that up all on your own?"

"Big talk for someone who's never been to college," he snapped.

"And yet I'm the one you call to fix your mistakes. Call Bennet and tell him you killed another one." I slipped passed him and walked calmly down the hall, wondering if everyone else could hear how hard my heart was pounding.

"Wait."

I froze, the blood draining from my face.

"What's the TOD?"

I nearly passed out in relief. "Time of Death: 6:28 p.m," I called, not looking back. I heard the door close, and I started walking again.

0o0o0o0o0

I paced my apartment restlessly. I'd always understood that it was essentially just a very nice prison and that I wasn't actually free to leave, but never before had it felt so like a cell. I knew that at any moment, Bennet and his damned Haitian would come barging in to throw me somewhere where I'd never see daylight again.

If I was lucky, that is.

I hadn't told Gabriel that I loved him. All I'd done to save him, and I'd forgotten to tell him I loved him one last time.

Sometimes, my idiocy amazed even me.

I stared out the barred window (barred 'to prevent break-ins') at the sunny parking lot. People were gradually arriving for the morning shift.

The door busted open with a bang, and I looked up expecting to see Bennet.

"_Gabriel?"_ My jaw dropped. "What are you doing here? You were supposed to run."

He strode to me, dressed in…was that a Primatech delivery uniform?...and grabbed my hand, tugging me unceremoniously to the door. I stumbled along with him down the hall. "I'm returning the favor."

"You're returning the…you're rescuing me, aren't you," I said somewhat accusingly. "Well, I can't say that I don't approve. KISA is something you do very well –"

"KISA?" He didn't look at me, peering around a corner before he pulled me along again.

"Knight In Shining Armor. As I was saying, I didn't factor this into Operation Free Gabriel. I'm kind of a prisoner myself. I don't have a security key or any transportation. I can't even get into the supply closet without a nurse - HOLY MOLY! You just ripped the doors off with your mind. That's new. Where are we…Oh, wow, you can unlock cars with your mind, too. You're just a party bag of tricks now. Did you just psychically hotwire the car? Where on Earth did you learn to do that?"

He gave me a long suffering look as he steered the car onto the road. "Dorothy, I know you're a nervous babbler, but I just broke out Primatech. Twice. I've got a headache."

I blinked, realizing he was right. And, oh, holy Lord, I wasn't going to rot in a cell under a paper factory for the rest of my life. Gabriel had come back for me. The relief was so heady that I felt lightheaded. "Give me your hand. I can help with the headache."

He glanced at me, but offered his hand. I went in superficially, but yanked back. "Oh my God, you've been shot!"

"I paid a visit to Mr. Bennet's house. He came home unexpectedly."

I blinked at him. "Why did you…nevermind. Hold still and don't get into a wreck." He glanced at me as I unbuckled my seatbelt and scooted over so I put my hand on his stomach.

I closed my eyes and shut down his pain receptors again, feeling him instantly relax as what must have been intense pain vanished. Gunshot wounds, bizarrely, were common at the company, and healing them had become disconcertingly sort of like signing my name; I barely thought about it anymore.

His body was exhausted from intense healing and reinjury, and his energy was low again. No wonder he had a headache. He needed sleep badly, but I doubted that was a luxury we would get any time soon. I gave him some of my own energy to tide him over, but it wouldn't last long. Draston had once compared the feeling to drinking five Redbulls at once; the high was intense, but the crash was miserable.

I reactivated his pain receptors (hoping that it might prevent him from getting himself shot again) and pulled out.

"What did you do," he asked in surprise, the exhaustion gone from his voice.

I slid back to my seat and buckled myself in again. "I gave you some of my energy, but it won't last more than a few hours. Your body is overtired and you need sleep to replenish your own reserves."

"I'll drop you off somewhere outside the city," he said gruffly.

I frowned at him. "Why?"

He glanced at me with a dark expression. "Staying in Odessa will get you caught, and you've made it abundantly clear that you don't want to stay with me."

Wait? What? Jigga the who now? "Care to share with the rest of the class, buddy?"

"Don't play stupid, Dorothy. You are anything but." His hands were white on the steering wheel.

I stared at him, at those white knuckles, and my exhausted, over stimulated brain finally began to process that he was mad, furious even, at me. "Gabriel, you know that old saying about assuming things?"

He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. "Don't patronize me! You left, Dorothy, and everything fell apart."

Startled, I froze. I'd never seen Gabriel like this, so dark and angry, and I wasn't quite sure how to handle it. I knew without a doubt that he would never hurt me, though. "Gabriel, that's not what happened. Not at all."

When he stayed silent, I put a tentative hand on his shoulder. Gabriel tensed, but didn't pull away. I kept my tone gentle as I continued, wanting to soothe him. "I didn't leave willingly."

His expression was grim as he stared at the road. "Then what happened? Please, do tell," he said sarcastically. "Bennet told me you were working for them willingly." His jaw ticked. "He taunted me with it."

A fresh wave of anger at the injustices committed by the man with the horn-rimmed glasses swept through me, but I bit it back. Now wasn't the time. "He twists things around, as well you know. If nothing else, he's an expert at manipulation. Bennet…" I shook my head. "Let's start over. I figure we're going to be on the road for a while, anyway. I'll tell you what I know, and you can tell your side."

Gabriel inclined his head jerkily. He was still angry, but he was willing to listen, at least.

"I went to mail…I don't even remember what it was…and I bumped into someone on the way back. I…don't remember what happened, but I woke up in a cell very similar to the one you were kept in. Bennet knew exactly who I was and what I could do. He said…that they wanted to study you, something they could only do when I was gone. He said... terrible things about you."

I took a deep breath and continued. "He told me that if I worked for them, they would leave you alone, but that if I refused, they would hunt you down. I…I didn't know what to do, so I agreed to stay."

Gabriel was rigid with anger now, and I slumped a little. If the truth didn't pacify him, nothing would. I was surprised when he murmured, though. "Bennet, you clever bastard."

"Wait, what?"

His hand tightened on the wheel. "When you didn't come home, I thought something bad had happened. I looked everywhere, even filed a missing persons report. When I found out that the report had vanished, I realized you had to have been taken by someone with power. I was determined to find you and save you…by whatever means necessary. I began collecting powers, anything I thought would be useful."

As grim as the words were, warmth fluttered in my chest. "You were trying to rescue me?"

He glanced at me, and his eyes softened for the briefest of moments before the cold anger returned. "I was captured by the company, and Bennet told me that you had left me willingly, that you had been there all along."

"And you believed him?"

"It made sense at the time."

We were silent for a moment, neither sure what to say. The warmth in my heart gradually began to curl into an icy knot in my stomach as pieces began to fall into place in my head.

In the clock shop when I'd found Gabriel, he'd told me that he'd done something bad; _'A man had something I wanted, and I took it at a terrible price'._

Then in the hospital when I cut my hand and he had been so relieved; _'The…hunger for power is overwhelming at times… You don't understand, Dorothy. I could have…hurt you.'_

And Bennet, six months ago, had come out and said it. _'He's a murderer, Miss DuValier. And in your absence, he's killed again to collect powers.'_

Gabriel had been placed in a top security cell, and yet everyone was so terrified of him that they'd nearly killed him twice in an effort to keep him sedated. After working so long for the company, I knew they were many things, but prone to overreaction was not one of them.

I didn't want to ask it. I didn't want him to confirm what I already knew, or to lie to me. I didn't want my mouth to open, my lips to form the words, but they did, against my will. "Did you kill those people, Gabriel?"

He stiffened, and I hoped for a moment that he wouldn't answer at all. "I did what I had to do to find you."

"Oh, Gabriel."

My heart was breaking for him, for what he had been through. But at the same time, he was a murderer. He killed people to collect their powers.

_But he did it for you_, whispered Mental Dorothy.

I shut my eyes, rubbing my forehead. It was no excuse.

_Wouldn't you have done the same, in his shoes?_

Maybe. Yet, he had killed innocent people, people who had nothing to do with my abduction or the company. People who had families, who went out drinking with their friends, who had scars from falling of their bikes as kids. People who had inside jokes with their siblings. Maybe even children.

_Who are you to judge him, after what you've done 'for the good of the many'?_ Mental Dorothy pointed out.

The thought made me still, and I opened my eyes to stare out the window at the passing scenery. I rolled the idea around in my head, tasting it, seeing how it fit into the situation.

To work for the company, you have to become comfortable with 'morally gray'. My formerly rigid moral code had been tested and found lacking within the first week on the job, and my view of the world hadn't been the same since.

Originally, my code of ethics was Hippocratic in nature, but through experience and doing what had to be done, it had taken on a decidedly Machiavellian slant.

The company was responsible for many heinous acts, but sometimes they were necessary. Not everyone with powers were good, sometimes they were horribly demented. Super charged villains and little more.

My first week, a group of agents led by Bennet and the Haitian had brought in what can only be described as a monster. It had taken 12 agents, six with powers, to take down the man. His power was simple and horrifying; with a thought, he could trigger the pain receptors in a victim's brain.

The man didn't have a moral code to speak of. He didn't even find any particular pleasure in torturing his victims, but he did it because he could.

_"He's a monster, Dorothy. He's unredeemable, the scum of humanity. If he ever had a soul, he lost it a long time ago. He's a rabid dog, and he needs to be put down," Draston told me as we stood outside the man's cell. "The only question is: who is going to pull the trigger? Any number of company agents can do it, but this is a lesson you have to learn, so I'll let you make the choice; will you put him down, or will you let him live, in which case he will continue terrorizing other people?" _

I had done it. While he was sedated, I'd gently laid a hand on his chest and told his heart to stop beating. There was no pain, no fear, no knowing what was coming. He'd died in his sleep, a far kinder ending than he probably deserved.

Still, it was the indoctrination into the world of morally gray. There had been others, people I had killed for the same reason, monsters who could be held by no cage. And though they probably deserved to die, I would never be able to wash the blood from my hands.

So who was I to pass judgment on Gabriel? He, at least, had done it to save me. If I still considered myself a good person after what I'd done, then why should I consider Gabriel differently?

We'd both changed. We'd both been forced into impossible situations and made difficult decisions. We'd been played against each other, and had our weaknesses exploited.

In the end, I still loved Gabriel, and after fighting so long to keep him safe, I wanted to be with him, even if it was only for a little while.

"I take it you've changed your mind about staying with me."

His quiet voice startled me, and I realized I'd been silent for a long time now. "No, Gabriel, I haven't," I replied softly, not taking my gaze from the window. I could feel his eyes on me again, trying to figure me out.

"Why not," he asked finally. We were heading into the countryside now, passing farms and fields.

I ran my fingers over my lips thoughtfully as I watched the passing land. "We're not the same people we were six months ago. The company made sure of that. I'm in no position to pass judgment on anyone." I looked at him at last. "And honestly, I'm so relieved you're safe that I just want to be with you. Consequences be damned."

He didn't look at me, but something told me that it was because he was scared to. "They will never stop hunting us."

I smiled tiredly down at my hands in my lap. "Not to channel Scarlett, but I can't think about that right now. I'll think about that tomorrow."

He didn't say anything, and we lapsed into silence. Neither of us wanted to think about all the trials that doubtlessly lay ahead. For now, we were safe and we were together.

I laid my hand palm up on the console between us, an unspoken offer. Wordlessly, he took it and laced our fingers together.


	6. Chapter 6

0o0o0o0

_We were back in our apartment facing each other in bed. The windows were open, letting in a warm summer breeze. His hand drifted gently down my back as he traced the tattoos he so loved. He gently pressed a kiss to my shoulder. I'd missed this so much. His hand slowly moved to my hip and he pulled my leg over his. His intelligent brown eyes glowed with warmth and love as he tenderly tucked hair behind my ear. _

_"I missed you, Gabriel."_

I woke with a start to see Gabriel standing next to where I'd fallen asleep in the passenger seat. His expression was unreadable as he stared down at me.

"You still talk in your sleep."

I flushed scarlet, guessing what I'd said. I cleared my throat. "Where are we," I asked, looking at the suburban house we were parked in front of.

"Virginia," he said, stepping back to let me out of the truck.

"Where are the home owners," I asked curiously. It was freezing outside and I was glad I'd put a long sleeve shirt on under the dark blue scrubs. Gabriel didn't answer. "You didn't…"

"We're supposed to be here, Dorothy, I know that much. He answered the door thinking I was Dr. Suresh."

I rolled my eyes. "So the _obvious_ choice was to…Holy crap, the furniture is melted."

"A little on the nose, don't you think?"

I shot him a look. "You're a funny man. Now, did you really kill the guy?"

"He's in the kitchen. I needed his power."

"What, to remodel," I said sarcastically as I picked my way over the puddles. I was getting way too comfortable with death. It was a 1 in a million chance that I could help the guy, but in case he wasn't dead, I was going to go look.

Gabriel grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop. His grip was just tight enough to keep me still. His eyes were dark and serious. "I needed his power so that I can protect you."

"Protect me from what," I asked, looking up at him. "In case you didn't notice, Gabriel, you shall fear no evil, for you're the baddest S.O.B. in the valley."

"Unfortunately for us, no I'm not," he said grimly. "The company doesn't just want me. They want you, too, because of your power. They'll stop at nothing to catch us, which means it's my job to protect you."

I ran a hand through my hair. "Gabriel, that doesn't justify killing innocent people."

"It's us or them, Dorothy. Do you want to be captured and imprisoned again? Forced to be their personal Reset button whenever they almost kill their victims?" I looked away, frustrated in the knowledge that he was right. "Then don't judge me for doing what I have to do to keep us safe."

He let go of my arm and I sighed. "We're constantly stuck between a rock and a hard place, aren't we?" It wasn't really a question, and he didn't answer. "Look, I won't try and stop you, but please don't ask me to help you hurt innocent people. I can't do it, no matter what the justification behind it."

"No, Dorothy," he growled. "The company is going to come right back after you. You should stay with me so I can protect you."

"Look, we've both been manipulated into doing terrible things, and I'm not judging you for that. But…I want to move on from that. I want to have a normal life again." Unable to meet his eyes any longer, I focused on the buttons of his jacket. "So long as you continue hurting people, I can't stay with you."

His voice was hard when he finally responded. "So you're leaving me by free will this time."

"I have to, Gabriel. But," I hesitated and glanced up at him, "I'll be waiting for when you're ready to come home."

Gabriel stared at me for a moment, obviously tempted to just make me stay with him. We both knew he had the power to. Yet I also knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would never hurt me.

Finally, he pulled the keys out of his pocket and held them out. I took them from him as I leaned forward on tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. "Come home safe to me, or I'll hunt you down, Mr. Gray," I murmured in his ear.

Gabriel's arms shot out and wrapped around me to pin me to him. My gasp of surprise was swallowed as he kissed me hard, the first kiss we'd shared in six months.

It was everything I remembered, and for a few moments, I let the world and all its problems fall away as I kissed him back. I just let myself melt against him and drink in his warmth, the smell of him, the feel of his hand buried in my hair.

All too soon, he pulled away, leaving me breathless and wanting. Those dark eyes regarded me for a moment as I leaned dazedly against his chest blinking up at him. I closed my eyes as he pressed a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering for a heartbeat before he released me and stepped back.

There was nothing left to say. We stared at each other, both committing the sight to memory. After a heartbeat, I squeezed his hand gently before heading out to the car. As badly as I wanted to stay with him, I knew I could never hurt an innocent person.

From the house to New York was almost a seven hour drive, but I stopped only for gas. I knew if I stopped for more than that, I would turn the car around and go back to Gabriel.

At last, I stood in front of our apartment building for the first time in months. It was strange to walk through the familiar hallways. Just right there was the place where I had first met Gabriel. And right here, before my door, was our first kiss. I slipped the key in the lock and opened the door.

I stopped for a moment as I took in the sight. Nothing was out of place, though it was much cleaner than when I had left, no doubt from Gabriel's somewhat compulsive cleanliness. Still, memories were flooding me. This was my home, this was _our_ home. So many happy memories had been made here. It felt like opening a time capsule.

Finally, I closed the door behind me and walked through the apartment slowly. How naïve I had been then, how happy, how blissfully ignorant of the cruelty of men. And what now would I not give to return to that time?

Some irrepressible force pulled me to the bedroom. The bed was made in typical Gabriel fashion. The cheerful white duvet shone lay over the pretty blue sheets my mother had given me as a housewarming gift. On the closet door was a hanger holding a bright blue sundress that I vaguely remembered buying before I was taken. I'd bought it because Gabriel liked me in blue.

Gabriel, though, was a drawer person, and I pulled out one of his large collared shirts so carefully folded and put away. The scent of our familiar laundry detergent was comforting, but it wasn't quite him. I found myself walking to the bathroom and picking up his cologne to spray it on the shirt.

As I buried my nose in the shirt a second time, I relaxed. This was the scent I'd been missing: clean laundry and a hint of his cologne. As desired, the smell triggered warm memories and feelings of comfort and security and love.

I began undressing as I walked to the bed, taking off the scrubs that had come to represent my newer, harder self, and I slipped Gabriel's shirt on. It was much too large; Gabriel had broad shoulders, and I was much more delicately built.

The covers were cold and unwelcoming as I crawled beneath them; there was no Gabriel to play heater like there had been before. Still, they would warm eventually, and so I pulled his pillow over and rested my head on it as I curled up. Surrounded by Gabriel's comforting scent, memories soothed me to sleep.

0o0o0o0o0

A few days later, I finished tying up some loose ends on my laptop. One of the many excellent things about being a writer was that you didn't have a typical schedule. I'd still been making money off the royalties from my books, and all my bills were direct deposit. For the most part, my finances had taken care of themselves, and because I'd spent several months living without expenses, my bank account had swollen to a very respectable amount.

Of course, that left more room to worry about Gabriel. I pushed the nagging doubt away as best as I could, reasoning that he was a big boy and was more than capable of taking care of himself. After all, he was quickly becoming the most powerful man on the planet. Still, I couldn't help my thoughts turning to him every five minutes.

"Get yourself together, woman," I snapped at myself, shutting the laptop. "You're not his mother."

It didn't particularly reassure me.

My stomach growled angrily, distracting me. I hadn't eaten since breakfast, but I still hadn't gone grocery shopping either. Maybe I should call for pizza.

As I picked up my cell, it started ringing in my hands. I didn't recognize the number but I reflexively answered anyway.

"Hello?"

"Dorothy, it's Gabriel. I need your help. My mom...there's been an accident. She's dying. Can you come?"

I was already out the door. "Give me an address." I was surprised when he rattled off one that was only a little down the block. I took off at a run. "I'll be there in a second. Is she breathing?"

"No. The scissors…I think they punctured her heart." There were tears in his voice. "I think she might be dead."

That was bad. I couldn't heal the dead, but maybe… "How long since she stopped breathing?"

"53 seconds."

Trust Gabriel to be that precise. "I'm in the building. Go unlock the apartment door." I snapped the phone shut. Gabriel opened the door as soon as I was on the right floor and I slipped passed him easily, instantly spotting the woman on the floor. There was blood beginning to pool, but I ignored it as I dropped to my knees at her side, my hands on her chest before I'd even stopped moving.

I threw myself in, relieved to see the last remnants of electrical activity in her brain still there. That was all I needed. Instantly, I flooded her body with my own energy, 'manually' forcing her lungs to expand and her blood to move.

Focusing on keeping her body alive while simultaneously beginning to heal her heart was a bit trying to juggle and recite the Declaration of Independence. Still, all I had to do was get her heart healed enough to restart itself, and I could loosen my focus.

Gradually, I began to repair her heart, knitting the muscle back together. For now, patch work would have to suffice. I could heal her completely when I didn't have to focus on other things.

At last, the tear was closed with delicate new tissue, and her heart began beating on its own. Her body began to regulate itself again, and I released my hold on her lungs. Now I only had to focus on keeping her blood pressure up while I fixed my patch job.

The damage to her heart was extensive, but easily repairable, and her heartbeat strengthened and steadied. The real damage was that she'd lost a lot of blood, something that not even I could fix. I could accelerate her body's natural process of creating blood, but it would take time, and I would need to manually keep her stabilized in the interim.

Seeing no other option, I did just that. As always, I had no idea how much time was passing, but I didn't waste energy trying to guess. My focus didn't waver until I was sure that, at last, she had enough blood that I could loosen my iron grip on her, though I didn't let go.

Like driving, I kept one part of my mind on regulating the woman. I opened my eyes expecting to see Gabriel, but he wasn't there. It took me a moment to realize that the pool of blood I'd originally sat down in was gone and the water on the ground had also vanished. "Gabriel?"

"I'm here." Keeping a hand on his mother's chest, I turned to see Gabriel standing in front of a wall of snow globes. He came to kneel beside me. "How is she?"

"She'll be fine in a few hours," I reassured him gently. "Right now, I have to maintain contact with her to keep her stabilized. She lost a lot of blood and it'll take me a while to replenish it."

"How long has it been?"

"An hour."

We lapsed into silence for a while. "It was an accident," Gabriel said after several minutes.

Having given the woman so much of my own energy, I was too mentally and physically exhausted to play mind games. "What happened?"

"I…I showed her one of my abilities and she ran. She attacked me with scissors, and they accidentally…" He trailed off and I nodded. If Gabriel had wanted her dead, I doubted he would have needed scissors and he certainly wouldn't have called me. "Thank you for coming."

I smiled tiredly. "Always." Worn out, I pulled of my glasses and rubbed my eyes with my free hand. "Talk to me, Gabriel. I need to stay awake."

He looked at me, then down to his mother. "I'm going to blow up New York."

Alarmed, I straightened. "Well, I'm awake now, and you have my attention."

"I can draw the future now. I drew…that I'm going to explode. Like a nuclear bomb." He shook his head, frowning uncertainly. "I don't understand why I would do that, why I would kill so many innocents. I've killed to take powers from those that don't deserve it. It was natural selection. But I gain nothing from going nuclear on New York."

I frowned at him. "Do you have the power now?" He shook his head. "Then don't get it. Don't obtain the power, and then you don't have to worry about it, right?"

"I can't change the future, Dorothy," he said, standing to pace restlessly.

"Why not," I asked curiously. "The future is not written in stone."

He ran a hand through his hair. "You don't understand. There are too many variables."

I watched him pace for a few moments. "Do you still have the paintings?" He stopped pacing to look at me.

"They're in a loft."

"Well, I'll be done with her shortly, and then you can take me to them. No, don't give me that 'you don't know what you're talking about' look. What's the harm in me looking?"

"His body is still there," he countered easily.

I thinned my lips. "Ok, I was looking for a reason other than my personal discomfort."

"I don't want you to see what I do."

I blinked at him, genuinely surprised. "Gabriel, I've known you're a murderer for a long time."

His eyes were hard and wary. "But you've never seen it firsthand."

"Then give me the address, and I'll meet you there," I said at last. Honestly, I didn't want to see what he did, either. When he didn't respond, I knew I had him, and I knew he wasn't satisfied. "Look, if we go and nothing comes of it, then we'll just find a solution. Push comes to shove, all I need is to touch you and you'll drop like a rock."

"If I decided to blow up an entire city, what makes you think I'd let you get close enough to touch me," he scoffed bitterly.

"Because you'd never hurt me, and we both know it," I countered firmly. My gaze softened as he turned to look at me. "No matter what you've done, honey, you're still a good man."

His gaze dropped to his mother. "I wish I could believe that."

"One day, you'll see in yourself what I see in you." With a sensation disconcertingly like a timer popping up on a turkey, my power let me know that his mother was stable now. After a quick double check, I tried to stand up, but my legs were so stiff that I just fell over in an undignified heap.

Gabriel laughed softly and offered a hand which I gratefully accepted. He pulled me to my feet with surprising strength, and ended up more or less holding me up for a second. "Are you ok?" His tone was both concerned and amused.

"I'm fine, just stiff. Just, uh, don't let go for a second," I said with as much dignity as I could. "My legs may or may not be completely numb."

His eyes lightened as he smiled at me, and for a moment, with him smiling and dressed in the clothes he used to wear, I could pretend the past six months had never happened. He seemed to have a similar thought, and brown eyes turned dark as his gaze dropped to my lips.

I raised my hand to stroke his cheek, but hastily dropped it when I realized it was covered in blood. What was wrong with me? His mother was unconscious behind us, I was covered in sticky blood, and I was thinking about making out with him? Embarrassed, I flushed and stepped out of his arms, glad that my legs were working again. "Um, help me move your mom to her bed. She's stable now."

Gabriel for once looked as awkward as I felt, and incredibly vulnerable. It lasted only a heartbeat, though, and suddenly he was in control again. "Go clean up. I'll take care of her."

Unable to look him in the eye, I nodded and went to the kitchen to wash off as much blood as I could. As I watched, he picked up his mother and carried her into what looked like the bedroom, returning a moment later with a towel for me.

Gratefully, I used it to clean myself off, but I really needed a shower. The bottoms of my jeans were red and saturated with dried blood, and my sweater was ruined. I looked like I was starring in a slasher flic. Even in New York, my appearance would raise some eyebrows.

"Go to your apartment and get changed," Gabriel said, obviously thinking the same thing I was. "Then go to Isaac's loft." He handed me a scrap of paper with the address written down, and I tucked it into my jeans.

Knowing I was as clean as I was going to get here, I nodded and followed Gabriel out. The walk back to our apartment was silent, and awkwardly so, but I don't think either of us knew what to say. '_Hey, so I know I'm covered in your mom's blood and that you're worried you're going to blow up New York, but how's 'bout some sexin'?'_

It took me only a few minutes to get cleaned up. I threw my soiled clothing into the sink with water and a huge amount of hydrogen peroxide, a trick I'd learned from working for the company. The hydrogen peroxide would dissolve the protein in the blood and take the stain out.

After that, I changed into clean jeans and an old black t-shirt (I really did have to do some laundry) before returning to the living room. Was twenty minutes long enough? Should I give him more time? I had no experience disposing of a body. After googling the directions, I shrugged on my jacket and grabbed my keys and helmet.

Twenty minutes later, I arrived at an artist's studio and was met at the door by Gabriel. Easels and blank canvases were everywhere, and as I stepped down to the lower level, I realized the floor was covered with a mural of exactly what Gabriel was so concerned about.

I followed him to the center of the room, still trying to take in my surroundings. The paintings were covered with cartoonish people in the middle of their worst moments. Fear was in their eyes consistently.

"This is us, isn't it," I asked as I stepped forward to one of the paintings. It depicted a tall man with a black aura, obviously some sort of bad guy, pulling along a smaller, blue-eyed brunette in blue medical scrubs. I recognized the living complex from Odessa, Texas. "This is when you rescued me."

"Yes," Gabriel said, striding towards a painting of a man exploding in a burst of orange and white light. "But this is the one I'm worried about."

"I can see why, but it's not you." The incredulous expression on Gabriel's face was so comical that I had to smother my laughter. "Look at that painting over there." I pointed to a black and white painting of another man, this one obviously in this very apartment, who was surrounded by white light. "What do you see?"

His gaze flickered back and forth between the paintings, but he clearly wasn't seeing what I was.

"The eyes, Gabriel. The eyes are the same. But the eyes in the painting of you and me are very different."

"How the hell did I miss that," he asked in disbelief.

I rolled my eyes and snorted as I turned to inspect other paintings. "Couldn't possibly have anything to do with your oversized ego."

He shot me an unamused glance before turning his attention back to the paintings. "So, Peter Petrelli is going to blow up Manhattan."

"How do we stop them?"

"Why should we do that? Why shouldn't we just get out of the city?"

I frowned at him in surprise. He was serious. "I'm staying. There has to be a way to stop this."

"The fuck you are," he growled.

"I'd like to see you try and stop me," I shot back, my tone sharp with indignation and anger. "And watch your language. I'm a lady, and you will remember that when you address me."

I'd never snapped at him before, and surprise flickered across his face for a moment before his dark eyes lit with anger. He came to stand in front of me, towering over me so that I had to look up at him. "Damn it, Dorothy! I'm trying to keep you safe!"

Refusing to back down, I clenched my fists at my side. "Then stay and help me stop them!"

"You'll die if you stay here," he snarled. "I'm taking you out of the city whether you like it or not."

"What are you going to do? Are you going to use your powers on me," I challenged angrily.

"If I have to," he snapped.

We both stopped. Gabriel had just crossed an unspoken line, and we both knew it. I clenched my jaw as I glared up at him. My voice was quiet and cold when I finally spoke. "I know I wouldn't be able to stop you, Gabriel. But if you force me, I don't know if I could ever forgive you."

"So be it."

Without another word, I turned and walked out of the loft.

I kicked the bike to life beneath me and sped off. Gabriel was a big boy, and he could find his own way home. Besides, he was as angry as I was. A line had been drawn in the sand, and it was up to him whether or not he would cross it.

As always, riding my bike gave me a sense of freedom, and calmed me. The drive gave me time to cool down. I was still angry, but it had calmed to a low simmer of frustration. By the time I was back at the apartment, I was calm.

As I got ready for bed, I heard him enter our apartment and close the door. I didn't speak but neither did I try to kick him out. For all I was angry, I hadn't been alone with him like this for much too long. Right now, we were safe, together, and no one knew he was here.

I got ready for bed and crawled beneath the blankets. After a moment, I felt him join me. I contemplated keeping my back to him, but despite my anger, I wanted to savor this. I didn't want this to break us. Whatever happened tomorrow, whatever betrayals or triumphs would come, nothing more could be done tonight.

I rolled over and faced him. His eyes were dark and pleading as they watched me, begging me to understand. Gently, I stroked the stubble of his cheek, "Will this ever get easy?"

He caught my hand and pressed a kiss to my palm. "Do you want me to lie?"

I brushed some of his hair back from his face. "Then just kiss me." Gabriel looked at me for a moment. Then, accepting the comfort and love I was offering, he rolled on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress as I wrapped my arms around his neck. His lips were warm and gentle, and for a long time, no more words were needed.


	7. Chapter 7

0o0o0o0o0oo0o

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of someone knocking on my front door. Judging by the cold sheets, Gabriel had vanished long before. Blearily, I stumbled to the door and opened it to see two men in black suits standing outside.

"Can I help you?"

"We're looking for Dorothy DuValier," said one of the men, flashing a badge at me. "I'm Eric Thompson."

I frowned and opened the door so they could come in. "I'm Dorothy DuValier. Please, come in. Can I get y'all something to drink?"

One of the men turned to me as they filed into the apartment and I shut the door behind them. "Miss DuValier, we're here on important business. In light of your outstanding work history, the company is willing to overlook your…indiscretion. No, don't deny it," he said when I opened my mouth. "The past is the past. Right now, there's a little girl who is very sick and needs your help."

I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. "Then take her to the hospital. I don't work for the company anymore."

"But that doesn't really matter, does it, Miss DuValier," he said levelly. When I still didn't look convinced, he pulled out a picture from his coat pocket. "Her name is Molly Walker, and she's dying."

She looked so much like my little niece, Charlotte, that I knew the argument was already over. I sighed.

"Let me throw on some clothes and we can go."

0o0o0o00o0o

Accepting the blue medical scrubs and long sleeved white undershirt from Thompson grated on my nerves, but I took the familiar uniform anyway. For all I didn't want to give the man an inch, I knew I needed to reassure my patient that I was medical personnel and that I knew what I was doing.

I entered a room to see a good looking Indian man toiling away on a computer. He looked up as I entered and looked at me in question.

"You're Mohinder Suresh," I asked, walking up to him with my hand extended. He shook it, frowning as he took in my scrubs.

"I am. Are you an assistant or something?"

I laughed. "No, no. My name is Dorothy DuValier. I'm a healer," I commented as I turned to examine the computers and papers on the table. "The black suits outside commandeered me to help you fix Molly Walker. You tell me what's wrong with her, and I fix it."

"He already fixed me." We turned to see a pretty little girl coming out of the adjacent room. I smiled down at her and squat down so I could look her dead in the eye.

"Well, hi, pretty lady," I said with a wink. "My name is Ms. Dorothy."

"I'm already fixed," she repeated, eyeing me.

I grinned at her. "You sound just like my niece," I said. "I talked to some men on the way over here who explained what had happened. Do you know the difference between treatment and cures, Molly?"

She shook her head, looking at Mohinder for reassurance. He and I exchanged a glance and he squat down next to me. "Treatment is temporary. It's like taking cough syrup when you have a cold," he explained. "A cure fixes the problem permanently, so that it's never a problem again." His eyes were challenging as he looked me dead in the eye. "Miss Dorothy thinks she can cure you."

I tore my eyes from Mohinder's threatening gaze and looked at Molly, smiling at her. "Molly, I have a gift that lets me heal people. When Mohinder explains to me the details of what's making you sick, I'll put my hand on you and fix whatever's wrong."

She met my gaze levelly. As she studied me, she looked every bit the adult, and I was again struck by how much she reminded me of Charlotte. "Ok," she said, abruptly making up her mind.

I smiled and stood. "Cool beans. Are you ready to get to work, Dr. Suresh?"

He nodded as he watched Molly return to her room. "If you hurt her, I will kill you." His voice was low and quiet.

I frowned. "Well, then I have nothing to worry about. I'm a healer, Dr. Suresh. I don't know why you don't trust me."

"Perhaps because The Company planted a spy in my life, tried to have me killed, and has been enemy number 1 in my life," he replied, not quite glaring at me.

"I was a writer until they kidnapped me and blackmailed me into service six months ago," I told him conversationally. "Then I escaped them a week ago only to have them show up at my door and once again blackmail me into working for them. I'm honestly starting to wonder if I'm in some sort of B movie."

Mohinder stared at me for a moment, and I couldn't tell if he was more surprised by what I said, or the offhand tone with which I'd said it. He chose not to say anything, however.

We worked for hours as Mohinder explained everything. He was evidently a geneticist and his sister had had the same disease that Molly did, but had died. He was giving Molly transfusions of his own blood, but it was only a stopgap.

We worked through lunch, and it was passed four when I finally had enough information to start healing Molly. She'd been growing steadily weaker throughout the day, and we found her in bed.

"How are you feeling, Molly," I asked gently, sitting on the bed.

"I'm tired, I guess," she said, shrugging.

I nodded, smiling warmly. "I can help you now, thanks to Miss Mohinder. I'm going to hold your hand for a while, and I need you not to let go, ok? You can hold Mohinder's hand if it makes you feel better." She nodded, so I sat more firmly on the bed, crossing my legs under me. I was going to be there for a while. I brought out my iPod and put one earbud in. "Do you like old music, Molly?"

She nodded tentatively, and I smiled. "I'm listening to My Boyfriend's Back right now. It helps me concentrate. Wanna listen with me," I asked, holding out the other earbud. "This is going to take a while, since I have to go through your whole body, but it won't hurt. It's just gonna be kind of boring."

She grinned and took the other earbud. I pressed play and got comfortable before taking her hand. I'd never done anything like this before, changing a body's natural reactions would be difficult and delicate work, and time consuming would be an understatement.

I gave both of them (I think Mohinder was more nervous than Molly was) a reassuring smile before closing my eyes and going in deep.

0o0o0o0o0o

I stood up and rubbed my forehead, knowing a pounding headache was on its way.

"Are you finished," Mohinder asked as Molly hopped up and ran to the other room. I shook my head and wearily followed her, sinking into a chair at the table.

"No, but I need a break. I've got the healing equivalent of Road Fatigue." I rolled my neck, trying to get the kinks out. "She's fine. This isn't taxing her body like healing a broken bone would, but I still need more time."

"But I'm all better," she said, perched on a chair on the other side of the table and looking over a map. Mohinder leaned over the table, and I leaned back, listening. "See, look what I can do. Just like before I got sick. I think about someone and I know where they are in my head." She closed her eyes for a second, before putting a push pin in the book. "Right here."

"How do I know you're not playing a trick just to get out of more treatments," Mohinder asked, smiling. "You put that pin in this building. Is that supposed to be one of us?"

"No, it's my other hero," she said, beginning to grin. "If he's here, can I see him?"

"Your other hero," he asked.

"A police officer. He saved me from the boogey man," she said, her face more serious now.

"Molly," Mohinder said slowly, "if you're power has returned, we can stop the boogey man so that he never hurts anyone else. Can you think about him? Show me where he is?"

"Are you sure you want to know?"

I frowned at how like Charlotte she was. Both girls were 9 going on 30. Before anyone could say anything else, the door opened, drawing our attention.

"How's our favorite patient, doctors," Thompson asked, smiling at Molly.

"Much improved," Mohinder said, his hand protectively on Molly's back. "Molly says she can locate Sylar. We should go after him immediately." I didn't miss the pointed look Mohinder gave Thompson.

Ooooof course. Well, this was fantastic. Not only was I once more working for the company, but they'd also managed to get me to help them find my boyfriend. Maybe later I could get a full frontal lobotomy for half price, since this day was clearly going in my favor.

"We will. Soon," Thompson said, not batting an eyelash. "Right now, you both need to go away with Molly. We have a helicopter on its way ready to take all three of you to a safe location."

I narrowed my eyes and stood. "Hey, Molly, wanna go make a playlist for me for our next round of treatment," I asked, handing her the ipod. She looked between the two men for a moment before taking it and retreating to the other room. She clearly knew something was up.

"Ok, gentlemen, I think it's time I knew what was going on," I said grimly, looking Thompson dead in the eye.

"Unfortunately, there's no time for that, Miss DuValier. We have a bigger problem. Right now, four people have infiltrated this building, and they're coming for Molly. We have to get her to a safe location," Thompson said. He pulled us to where several monitors displayed security footage.

"That's Noah Bennet," I realized aloud, glancing at Thompson.

"He's gone rogue," Thompson replied calmly as he discreetly handed Mohinder a handgun.

"Do you know how to use one of these, Dr. Suresh," I asked.

"Take off the safety and point the barrel at the bad guy," he said dryly.

I smiled grimly. "Good enough."

Thompson saw two men in the monitor and quickly strode out of the room. Mohinder and I were glued to the screen as we watched what happened. We could clearly here gunfire in the hall, and I gasped, covering my mouth in horror when I saw Bennet execute Thompson.

"Oh, God," I breathed.

"Dr. Suresh," Molly said from behind us, "I thought I heard a noise."

Mohinder and I exchanged a look as he knelt with the girl. "It's nothing, Molly. Go back to your room. Good girl."

Mohinder turned back to the screen, and I took his handgun. He glanced at me in alarm until he saw that I was checking it over, making sure the clip was full and the safety was off. "I turned the Safety off," I said grimly as I deftly readied the weapon. "Use both hands to shoot or the kickback will throw off your aim, and keep your finger off the trigger until you're ready to shoot. I'm going to go protect Molly."

I drew the curtains, but only had time to shove Molly to the ground behind the bed before I heard the door open.

"Where's the tracking system," I heard one of the men ask.

"It's in there."

I stood my ground, swallowing hard as I heard the men approach. I could feel my hands shaking and I silently prayed for courage.

Suddenly, the curtain was ripped back by the men, and I saw a pistol leveled at me. I knew Bennet was about to pull the trigger, but Molly peeked her head out from behind the bed at that moment.

Instinctively, I shoved her behind me.

"That's the tracking system," one of the men asked incredulously. "A kid? We came here to kill a little girl?!"

"No," Bennet breathed. "No, I knew it was a person, but I had no idea." I backed into a corner, trying to shield Molly from two sides as he came around the bed, his gun still leveled at me.

Mohinder came out of nowhere, clubbing the younger man on the back of the head with the butt of the pistol. Suddenly, the older man and Mohinder were pointing their guns at each other.

"Lower your gun," Mohinder said.

"As long as she's alive," Bennet said, swinging his gun calmly to point at me and Molly, "my daughter will never be safe. None of them will."

I heard Molly whimper behind me.

"Lower your gun or I _will_ kill you," Mohinder warned, cocking the gun. I almost nodded in approval, noting he had taken my advice about holding it with both hands.

"Shoot me," Bennet hissed, "and they die."

"You'd take the life of an unarmed woman and child to save your daughter's life," Mohinder challenged.

"I have to," the man replied. "Taking her life would save _thousands_."

"And Thompson? Did you save thousands of lives by killing him," Mohinder retorted coldly. The man swung his pistol to aim at Mohinder, and I turned and forced Molly to the ground while his attention was diverted.

"No. Just my own," the man snapped.

"Officer Parkman," Molly asked incredulously from beneath the bed. We all looked down in surprise.

"Molly," the other man breathed.

"You know him, Molly," I asked, unsure of what to do. Mohinder and Bennet were still holding their guns at each other's faces.

"I told you he was coming," Molly said, standing up. I quickly shoved her behind me, but she made a noise of disgust and moved to my side. "He promised to keep me safe."

"That's right," Officer Parkman said, rubbing the base of his skull. "And nobody is gonna hurt you." He looked pointedly at Bennet, and the two men lowered their guns.

"Bennet and I have met," I said, glaring at Noah as I hovered protectively around Molly, "but who are you,"

"I'm Matt Parkman, and this is Noah Bennet," the younger man replied.

"We have to get Thompson's body out of the hall," Noah said, putting his gun in his pocket.

"Let me take care of Parkman," I said, coming out from behind the bed. "You two go handle that."

Mohinder shot me a look, but went with Bennet while I pushed Parkman onto the bed. "Let me see," I said, gently bending his head forward so I could see where he'd been hit. "Well, it's not too bad. You have a concussion, but I can fix that. Hold still." He looked at me incredulously, but I raised my eyebrow and pushed his head back down. "Hold still," I repeated, a little amused.

By the time Mohinder and Bennet returned, I had healed Parkman. The two men were bickering like an old married couple as they dragged Thompson's body in and shoved it into a waste bin. I glanced at Molly to see her curled up on the bed, grimacing.

"Get Mohinder," I said, sitting on the bed with Molly. I quickly grasped her hand and closed my eyes, throwing myself into her healing, focusing on her pain.

Mohinder ran into the room. "She needs another transfusion of your blood," I said without opening my eyes. I tuned out everything and focused all my energy on healing the little girl.

Once again, I didn't know how long I was in her body, but the next thing I knew, Mohinder was shaking me. I opened my eyes, disoriented from the abrupt severance from my patient.

"We need to get Molly out of here," he said. I glanced around and realized Bennet and Parkman had left.

"Where," I started, but Mohinder cut me off.

"There's no time."

Molly and I climbed off the bed, and I noticed the drained bag of blood hanging from the IV stand. Quickly and quietly, we followed Mohinder out of the room and made our way through the hallways, peering around corners.

We hit one corner, and the two peered around before Mohinder covered Molly's eyes and pulled her back. They leaned against the wall for a moment.

"What's there," I whispered.

"A man is lying on the floor. I don't know if he's dead or just wounded," Mohinder said.

I took a deep breath and started around the corner.

"Wait," Molly said, grabbing my arm. "He could be a bad guy."

"I'm a healer, Molly. This is what I do," I said, squeezing her shoulder before looking at Mohinder. "Stay back but keep an eye out."

I strode around the corner and quickly assessed the man. He'd been shot, but was still alive. Putting my hand over the wound, I closed my eyes and began to heal him, trying to make quick work of it.

Once again, Mohinder shook me, and I opened my eyes to see a blond woman and a little boy had joined us, and my new patient was now conscious.

"We have to go," Mohinder said urgently.

"I'm not finished, but he can move," I said, standing. For a second, I felt so dizzy that I almost passed out, but the woman grabbed me and steadied me. I smiled my thanks. Abruptly severing the connections between me and my patients was taking its toll. The woman yanked the doorknob off of the door as Mohinder and I pulled the man to his feet.

The woman took over what I assumed was her husband, and I quickly stumbled into the elevator behind them. As soon as the doors closed, I went to the other side of 'DL' as the woman called him, and pressed my hand to the wound, trying to repair as much damage as I could.

Mohinder pulled me out of my connection again, and I sagged against him, too dizzy to stand on my own. My head felt heavy and weird, like when a plane takes off and you have to swallow to pop your ears.

Mohinder supported me as we rushed out of the building, but stopped. I turned to see what he was looking at, and saw Parkman on the ground. Without speaking, both of us rushed to him, the adrenalin pumping furiously now and strengthening me.

I placed both hands on Parkman's chest and closed my eyes. One of the bullets had punctured his lung, but I quickly repaired the damage before moving on. Conscious of the fact that we didn't have much time, I healed him only enough to keep him alive and prevent permanent damage. Still, he'd been shot multiple times, and each of them could kill him.

When Mohinder pulled me out of my patient yet again, I nearly passed out. I felt warmth on my ear and touched it to find blood on my fingers. I was so dizzy and disoriented that I leaned over and started heaving, my body violently rejecting the interruption as it emptied my stomach.

Wiping my mouth, I stumbled to my feet and tried to get my bearings. Sirens were close by, and I looked around, seeing who else needed help.

I stumbled over to a man lying on the ground in the middle of the plaza. Turning him over, I realized to my disbelief that I knew him.

"Oh my God, Gabriel," I breathed.

"Get me to the manhole," he groaned, grabbing my hand.

I frowned. "What? Gabriel, I have to heal you!"

"DO IT," he snapped.

I hesitated before doing as he asked. Pulling him with me, I stumbled to the manhole cover and watched as he climbed down the ladder. Not knowing what else to do, I followed him.

As we reached the bottom, he started to stumble away, but I quickly caught up with him.

"No, we have to keep moving."

"We will, but let me do damage control. You'll bleed out otherwise," I argued. He growled, but obeyed, obviously not able to go farther.

I sat him down and leaned him against the wall before placing my hand over the wound. I frowned. It looked like he'd been stabbed with….with a sword or something. He had also been pummeled with something, given the bruising around his body.

Lucy had some serious explaining to do.

I didn't bother healing him completely, instead doing only enough to keep him from bleeding out or becoming infected. Satisfied he wouldn't die before I could get him somewhere safe, I pulled myself out.

Though the connection between us wasn't severed abruptly as with Mohinder, I could tell my body was reaching its limits as I stood and nearly passed out. As I fell to all fours and began dry heaving, I could feel blood trickling from my nose and ears.

"Dorothy," Gabriel asked, watching me. I sat up and wiped my mouth and nose as I tried to take deep breaths.

"I'm fine. Where do we go from here," I asked, helping him to his feet. I could tell that he was much stronger, though not back to his full strength.

"There's a hotel that doesn't take names. They won't know where it is," he said.

Gabriel seemed to have an infallible sense of direction. He led us through the sewers and back up to the street without making one wrong turn. Eventually, we made it to a seedy looking hotel and I left Gabriel outside only long enough to get a room. Despite the fact that I was covered in blood, the woman behind the desk didn't bat an eyelash as she handed me a key.

Gotta love New York.

We stumbled into the room and I pushed him onto the bed before sitting cross legged beside him. He looked at me, still weak.

"You might as well go to sleep, Gabriel. This is going to take a while." He studied me for a moment before shaking his head. I rolled my eyes, but shrugged. "Your call, but don't break contact with me. I kept you from dying, but you still need a great deal of healing." I gave him a hard look to emphasize my point, but he just continued studying me. I sighed and rested my hand over the still-fresh wound. I closed my eyes.

I could tell when he succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep. His body calmed down and put all its energy into healing itself, and my task became easier. Not wanting to push his body past its own limits, I ignored anything that wasn't life-threatening or might cause permanent damage.

When I finally opened my eyes and glanced at the clock, I realized it was 2 a.m. I was beyond exhausted, but my patient was well out of the woods. The only injuries he had left were superficial: bruises and minor scarring. If I needed to, I could heal the rest in the morning.

Right now, what we both needed most was sleep.

I didn't want to sleep in my scrubs as they were now covered in blood, so I tossed them onto the floor and curled up to Gabriel in just my panties. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

0o0o0o0o


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Ok, this one is a slow chapter. **

I wasn't in my apartment.

That was the only thought that registered as I slowly woke up. My sheets always smelled like a mixture of febreeze and my perfume, but this pillow smelled pleasingly masculine.

Slowly, I opened my eyes and it took me a moment to recognize that I was in the hotel room.

I indulged in a really good toe-tingling stretch before I finally sat up. The clock on the bedside table read 4 p.m. I must have been exhausted if I'd slept for 14 hours, but I felt more rested than I had in years. I smiled and rubbed the sleep from my face, reveling in the sensation before pulling myself from my nest of blankets.

I didn't relish the idea of putting my bloody scrubs back on, but I didn't have any other clothes.

Before I could get up and force myself back into my soiled clothing, the hotel room door swung open and I hastily covered myself with the sheet. Gabriel walked in carrying two plastic bags.

"Good, you're awake," he said, setting down the bags and locking the door. "I have food and I have clothes."

In that instant, I was fairly positive I fell in love all over again. "I think you just became my favorite person ever," I said as I wrapped the sheet around me and climbed out of bed.

He smiled. "I knew you'd be hungry."

"Well that's true enough. I could eat a horse. My stomach thinks my throat's been cut." I could cheese ravioli coming from the plastic bag, and greedily took it from him.

"Well, you did sleep for two days," he said in amusement. I looked up at him, startled.

"Two day," I repeated in disbelief.

"That's why I left. I went to cover our tracks while you slept."

I shook my head. "I guess I really needed it after so much healing." I leaned against the counter. "Speaking of things I've healed, how are you feeling?"

"Surprisingly fine, considering I got beaten with a parking meter and stabbed with a katana," he said bitterly.

"Yeah, and you'd better believe we're gonna come back to that later." My hand hovered over his chest, asking permission. "May I?" At his nod, I closed my eyes and pressed my hand to his chest. There was some bruising on his organs and skin, and some of his muscles were probably aching, but nothing life threatening. I went ahead and healed him completely.

I opened my eyes and smiled at him in satisfaction. "All better. You're going to have a scar there for the rest of your life, though. Sorry about that. I was working fast, not pretty."

He shrugged. "Small price to pay." He surprised me by grabbing my hand on his chest. "Thank you, Dorothy."

I grinned impishly. "Think of it as positive reinforcement for not making me leave New York." I squeezed his hand before I released it and grabbed the second bag from him. "Now, I'm gonna go take a shower."

I washed my hair, singing quietly under my breath as I let the hot spray soak away the last few days. When I climbed out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel, I felt like a new woman. I towel dried my hair before braiding it back wet. I wasn't in the mood to deal with it today. I dried off and threw on the long sleeved t-shirt and jeans Gabriel had bought for me.

Feeling infinitely better, I grinned widely as I stepped out of the bathroom. Gabriel was throwing our soiled clothing into a garbage bag he'd apparently brought with him. The food was sitting on the table in Styrofoam to-go boxes.

I sat down at the table and for several minutes we ate in silence. "Alright, Gabriel, tell me what happened," I asked finally. "I was so busy helping people that I didn't get to see much."

He regarded me for a moment. "Peter Petrelli tried to blow up New York."

"So, exactly what we thought was going to happen," I said dryly.

Gabriel didn't quite meet my eyes. Evidently sensing I was about to press him, he quickly changed the subject. "We're leaving the city as soon as we've eaten."

"I'll stop by the apartment and grab some things for us," I offered, though I desperately wanted to ask why. "I'm guessing we can't use our cards?"

"No. "

"Then I'll give you my debit card and you can go pull out as much cash as you can," I said. "It'll save time if we split up."

His eyes were doing that deep 'I'm looking at all the variables' thing. "We will meet in front of my shop in an hour."

0o0o0o0

20 minutes later, I opened the door to our apartment and gasped at what I saw. Someone had ransacked the place. Tables were turned over, drawers emptied, furniture torn apart.

I walked through the destruction, wondering what had been taken. My laptop was still there, as was my TV and stereo. I even found my jewelry case intact when I went through my bedroom. Nothing seemed to be missing.

Quickly, I changed into my own clothes and packed a bag. I was in the middle of zipping up the bag when I heard a voice from my living room.

"No, she's not here. It's possible she's with Sylar…Yes, sir." I heard the click of the cell phone closing as the man hung up.

Silently, I went to my closet and hid, trying desperately to think of some plan of escape. If I could get close enough to the agent to touch him, I could probably knock him unconscious using my ability. The problem was that they always worked in pairs, and I didn't know where the other agent was, or which one had the power.

A second voice in the living room made me freeze.

"Your company is proving to be a persistent annoyance."

I nearly sagged in relief as I recognized Gabriel's voice. He'd come for me. I carefully crept out into the hallway and peaked out. Gabriel and a suited man were standing in my living room facing each other. The suited man had a gun pointed at Gabriel.

Something hit the back of my head with enough force to knock me out.

I could only have been out for a few seconds, but when I opened my eyes, Gabriel was standing over me protectively. One of the men was unconscious on the floor. The other one was pinned high up on the wall, clawing at his neck as Gabriel choked the life from him. I struggled to my feet, still dizzy and disoriented.

There was murder in Gabriel's eyes.

I put a calming hand on his arm. He didn't take his eyes off the man. "Let him go," I said softly. He glanced at me, but didn't release the man. "Gabriel, if you kill him in this apartment, they'll call me a murderer. I'll be hunted by the police."

At first, he didn't react, but finally, he released the man, who fell to the floor and started coughing violently. Gabriel grabbed my arm in one hand and the bag with another before pulling me out of the apartment and down the stairs.

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but what are you doing here?"

"I passed a Primatech van heading in this direction so I came to make sure you were safe. We need to get out of the city."

"I'll take you to my hometown," I said grimly. "It's small, but they are fiercely protective of their own."

For once, I was grateful that I'd kept my Ford Escape when I'd moved to New York. I was terrified to drive in the city, even after living there for so long, so I handed Gabriel the keys.

"It's a 17 hour drive, barring stops, and, believe me, we'll need those," I said, remembering the reverse trip I'd made so recently.

I sat back with a sigh and touched the back of my head where I'd been hit, grimacing in pain. It was still sticky with blood and sore. Not for the first time, I wished I could heal myself.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gabriel's hands tighten on the steering wheel.

"You should have let me kill him."

I looked at Gabriel. "I'm a healer, Gabriel. I don't have it in me to let someone die anymore than you have it in you to forgive them." We were quiet for a moment, but when I broke the silence, my voice was soft. "Thank you for not killing him."

He didn't respond. After a while, I turned on the radio and we lapsed into silence.

0o0o0o0o

We had made excellent time, driving through the night. We talked a bit on the road, but mostly took turns driving and napping. At last, we were on the home stretch, and I took over driving after we stopped for gas.

"Only about an hour and a half now," I said, guiding the car onto a long, mostly deserted highway.

"I've met your sister, but what's the rest of your family like," he asked.

I grinned, glancing sideways at him. It had been a long time since I'd had a conversation not related to powers in some way."Really big, really loud, and really opinionated. Momma adopts anyone who comes through her door, so be prepared for a giant hug upon meeting her. Daddy's a bit like you; he's very unemotional as a rule and is a man of few words, but when he speaks, everyone listens. Everyone has their own homes now, but since our parents' house is closest to town, it's usually bustling."

He gave me another one of those long stares. I'd grown used to it by now, and it no longer fazed me. "Sounds nice. I was an only child." There was another pause. He went back to staring out the window at the passing farmland.

"Have you ever been in the South," I asked.

"Well, I've been to Birmingham."

I blinked. "Oh."

My tone drew his attention and he turned at me with a raised eyebrow. "'Oh'?"

I cleared my throat. "Well, it's just…my town is about as rural as it gets…" I bit my lip, glancing at him uncertainly. "It's about as different from New York as it gets."

He looked amused. "Should I keep an ear out for banjo music?"

I laughed. "No. I swear it's not like Deliverance."

An hour and a half of farmland later, we drove down the creatively named Main Street, the houses becoming few and farther between as we continued. At long last, I pulled off onto a well-maintained gravel road that led to a large white house in the middle of several acres of fenced in pastures and tracks. Off to the side was a large stable, and horses could be seen in grazing in the pastures or being led by stable hands. Some of the workers, recognizing my car, waved as we drove passed, and I waved back with a smile.

"This is like something out of a movie," Gabriel commented as he took in the scene.

I couldn't stop smiling as I parked the SUV beside some trucks and cars. "This is home." I surveyed the trucks and cars around me as we climbed out of the car. "Looks like my brothers are here," I commented, recognizing my brother's vehicles.

Four dogs ran out and assaulted us, tails wagging furiously. A pretty brunette woman came out onto the porch, smiling widely. "Dorothy Jean, is that you setting the dogs barkin'?"

"'Dorothy Jean'," Gabriel repeated, clearly amused. I swatted his shoulder.

"Shush," I said, grinning at him. I didn't realize how good it felt to be back home. "It's me, Momma!"

As we reached the porch, she grabbed me in a fierce hug before holding me at arm's length and scrutinizing me. "Your sister told me you got skinny. Don't they have food up there?"

I smiled. "I love you, too, Momma." She smiled and hugged me again, kissing my cheek before turning to Gabriel. "Momma, this is my boyfriend Gabriel Gray. Gabriel, this is my mother, Dorothy Elizabeth DuValier."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. DuValier," he said politely, his face guarded. As he was immediately pulled into a hug, I shot him an 'I told you so' look over her shoulder.

"Please, call me Dorothy," she said with a smile.

"Family name," I said with a shrug.

"You're a handsome one, too. I see what my little girl sees in you," my mother said, surveying him approvingly.

"Momma," I groaned. Just then, the screen door creaked and a tall middle aged man with weathered skin and my own ice blue eyes stepped onto the porch.

"Daddy," I greeted with a smile as he walked over.

"Hey, little bit," he said softly, wrapping his arms around me and kissing my forehead. "James DuValier," he said, releasing me as he held out his hand to Gabriel.

The men shook hands firmly. "Gabriel Gray."

"Come on inside," Momma said, gesturing to all of us. My father picked up my bag and held the door for me and my mother. One of my brothers was coming out of the kitchen.

"Tommy!" I was greeted with a wide smile and a bear hug that lifted me off the ground. "How was the Big Apple, Shorty," he asked as he set me down.

"Freezing," I replied with a smile. "Tommy, this is my boyfriend Gabriel. Gabriel, Tommy."

The men shook hands as we went into the kitchen. "So what brings you home so unexpectedly," my mother asked.

Gabriel and I exchanged a look. "Just got homesick is all, Momma," I lied with a smile.

"Well, sit down," she said. "I knew you were coming, so I heated up one of the pies from the bake sale. Do you know Fran's daughter is becoming as good a cook as her mother?"

"I can't say I'm surprised," I commented.

"You knew we were coming," Gabriel asked, staring at my mother with that unreadable, unblinking look that he used so often on me.

She flapped her hand dismissively as she started to pour out glasses of tea. "I get glimpses into the future. It's just something I've always been able to do, but it got stronger when I had my kids. It's how I knew I was pregnant with Dorothy Jean before I even had symptoms."

"Does anyone else in your family have a gift," Gabriel asked as he sat down.

I was watching him carefully, wondering how he was taking all this. "Yes, but not in the way you're thinking," Momma replied, setting out the plates. "Josh has a gift with animals, being able to calm them and get them to do what he wants, but it's not as blatant as what I can do. Or now my littlest girl," she added, smiling proudly down at me.

"It just meant that we constantly adopted whatever stray or injured animal he happened to come across," Tommy said dryly.

My mother brought the pie out of the oven and set it on the table. "Now it's a little hot, so be careful," she warned as she started slicing it into pieces.

"Oh, I'm not hungry, ma'am," Gabriel said.

"Nonsense," my mother replied. "You need some meat on those bones."

"Let her feed you, man," my brother said, clapping him on the back. "She's not going to stop until you've gained five pounds and probably a wife."

"So where are Josh and Nathan," I asked, taking a seat beside Gabriel. "I saw their trucks out front."

"They're out repairing the fence," my mother said, "and Tommy is supposed to be out there helpin' 'em." Tommy grinned unabashedly at the look my mother shot him, and she snapped the towel at him playfully. He danced out of the way before grabbing his hat and gloves from the table.

"It was nice to meet you, Gabriel," he said, nodding at him before heading out the door. As my father followed him out the door, the phone started ringing and my mother went to answer it.

"Come on, let me show you where you'll be sleeping," I said, standing. We grabbed our bags and Gabriel followed me up the stairs to a guest bedroom. "I'm just across the hall here." I set my bag down on my bed.

"Your family is very warm and welcoming," Gabriel said, coming to lean against the door frame as he watched me.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my mother. It's just not something we ever talked about outside the family. Will you be ok?"

Gabriel gave me that unreadable look. "They have nothing to fear from me, Dorothy." His tone was emotionless.

I studied him in silence for a moment. "Gabriel, I didn't mean it like that. Ok, well, I guess I kind of did. But I'm not worried about you hurting them so much as your own discomfort."

He relaxed slightly, obviously sensing I was telling the truth. "I'll be fine."

Slowly, I walked over and leaned against him, sighing into his neck. He wrapped his arms around me as I rested my head on his chest. "We won't be able to stay here, will we?"

"No. The company will find us soon."

My mother was coming up the stairs, so Gabriel kissed my forehead and released me to retreat into his own room. She came in and started helping me unpack.

"He's a cute one," she said, looking at me knowingly. I smiled but didn't say anything. "I've been worried about you. I've been having dreams about everything you've been through, and it makes me proud that you've become such a strong woman."

I looked down. "I don't feel strong. Honestly, sometimes I just feel like a bad person for loving him," I said softly.

My mother's voice was soft. "Love is never a bad thing, Dorothy. And Gabriel is not a bad man; he simply has a power that he hasn't yet learned to control. You have a hard path in front you, but you need to stay with him. There's a lot that depends on it, more than just your lives. You two are meant to be together, Dorothy Jean. You're his only chance for redemption."

I sat on the bed and looked at her. "You've seen this?"

"Yes," she said, studying me. "Your paths are winding and long, and his resolve will falter and change. You'll have to turn a blind eye to a lot of things, but in the end, you'll see that it was for a reason. That's when you have to be strongest, Dorothy. He's walking a tightrope and you're the only one keeping him on. You must have faith in him."

One of the dogs came in for attention, and I stroked his soft fur. "I miss when your prophecies were only as complicated as 'bring a change of clothes for when you spill coffee all over yourself'."

She kissed my cheek, her eyes warm. "I miss when all I worried about was you spillin' coffee on yourself."

"What's going to happen to us, Momma? What do you see?"

She smiled. "You know I can't give you spoilers, Dorothy Jean, and you know better than to ask. Que sera, sera."

0o0o0o0o0o

In a little town, news spreads like wildfire. Mrs. Sampson had seen me driving down Main Street, and had spread the word. Within hours, the entire community knew I was home with some stranger from New York and my house became the center of an impromptu bonfire.

Anyone who was curious about Gabriel, wanted to see me, or simply didn't have anything to do arrived for dinner bearing food, alcohol, or guitars. Currently, country music was blasting from one of the many trucks parked close by.

Gabriel caught my eye from across the yard where he was talking with my brothers. I smiled at him, but was distracted by the arrival of my sister. I hugged Rose carefully, taking care of the baby in her arms.

"So this is Rome's newest arrival," I said, smiling broadly as I carefully took the infant from the tiny blond woman. Rose already knew from my mother about my new ability, so I had no qualms about checking my nephew over. "Hello, handsome," I cooed at the little boy, trying to feel out what was wrong. I glanced up at my sister. "He's as healthy as a horse."

"Oh, I know," she hastily reassured me. "It's me as needs healing. I…uh…"

"What is it, Rose," I asked, eyeing my blushing sister curiously. I'd known this woman my entire life and had never known her to be embarrassed about anything.

"Well, the birth was hard on my body and the doctor said Adam and I couldn't….well, you know…for a while. But it's been long enough, and I'm getting a little frustrated, but Adam's too scared to touch me and I'm getting a little frustrated," she said, running an aggravated hand through her hair and shooting a look of irritated affection at her husband across the yard.

I grinned and carefully laid her son in my lap, keeping one hand on him so he wouldn't roll off before I held out my other hand. Rose, trusting me implicitly, immediately placed her hand in mine. I closed my eyes and focused on her body.

She wasn't exaggerating when she said it had been a hard birth. She had mostly healed and was ok for late night games, but I went ahead and healed anything I could find, paying special attention to her reproductive organs. I saw a budding infection in her mammary glands that I eradicated before opening my eyes.

"All done. I take it I'll be babysitting tomorrow night," I said dryly, winking at her. Rose laughed and hugged me. Seeing no one else waiting to talk to me, I carefully picked up the baby and cradled him in my arms. "He has your eyes," I commented.

"Yeah, and his daddy's temperament," she said wryly, leaning back against the table. "So what about your man?"

"What about him," I asked innocently.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't give me that. You two couldn't keep your eyes off each other when I first met him, and now you're bringing him home to meet not just your family, but the entire town?"

I met her eyes with a wry smile. "Don't go leaping to conclusions. I love him, but I don't know if there are wedding bells in the future. He's going through something right now."

"Is that why you came home?"

I nodded. "There's just something about him. I can't stay away."

She was silent until I met her gaze. "You know you can't change a man, Dorothy."

I sighed. "I'm not trying to change him. I know who he is. I just wish _he_ knew who he was."

The baby cooed in my arms and I bounced him gently, smiling down at him. Something drew my gaze and I looked up to see Gabriel watching me with a peculiar look on his face. "Just be careful, ok? You know what happened the last time you let your bleeding heart run away with you."

I smiled at her and handed her back her son. "We aren't sixteen anymore, Rose, but I promise to be careful. Right now, I've got my eye on a hot chocolate and a tall New Yorker."

I made my way across the backyard to where Gabriel and a bunch of the younger men were talking by the beer coolers and hot chocolate thermoses. One of the guys took my mug and refilled it before handing it back to me. I thanked him and set it down on the truck bed. "Every time I see you three together," I said, raising an eyebrow at Tommy, Nathan, and our brother-in-law Adam, "I know somethin' bad's about to happen."

A guilty look passed between Tommy and Adam, but Nathan didn't bat an eyelash. "We were talkin' about whether you could still dance," he said, abruptly taking my hand and spinning me under his arm. I stumbled and he caught me, clearly amused. "Evidently not."

I glared at him, chin rising. "I wasn't ready," I retorted. "Country swing. Bring it on, Marine."

He grinned and took my hand, pulling me out from the group. Prepared this time, I was easily able to keep up with him. My mind may not have remembered the steps, but my body seemed to remember. Well, given the many hours my brother and I had spent learning how to dance together, it was to be expected. He swung me around gracefully and quickly. I couldn't help laughing as we danced, trying not to get dizzy with all the spins.

When the song ended and we retreated back to the group, I realized that other couples had begun dancing.

"Betcha don't see that in New York," Nathan commented, glancing at Gabriel. I rolled my eyes and shoved Nathan lightly.

"Actually, we do dance," Gabriel said to everyone's surprise, setting down his beer. He stood and held out his hand to me, shooting Nathan a challenging look.

Eyebrow raised and jaw on the floor in what I'm sure was an undignified manner, I took his hand incredulously and he led me to the fire. He pulled me close, one hand on my waist and the other holding my hand. As the music started up again, he began to easily whirl me around. As he dipped me and spun me and swung me around, I thanked God he was good at leading. I'd never done a dance like this before, but he led me confidently. He spun me out, then pulled me back into his arms, catching me deftly against his chest.

"Where'd you learn to dance," I asked with a wondering smile.

"My mother taught me. She said that all great men could dance," he said, smiling back as he dipped me. "Your accent gets _really_ thick when you're down here."

The song drew to a close and I laughed helplessly at the cocky, triumphant grin on Gabriel's face as he led me back to my brothers with a hand on the small of my back. "I gotta hand it to you, Gabriel. You're a better dancer than Tommy."

Adam clapped a hand on Gabriel's back. "I'd say he won this one, boys."

Rose came over with the baby and kissed me on the cheek. "I've come to collect my husband. It's past midnight and we need to get the baby in bed." Adam kissed my cheek and shook Gabriel's hand before leading my sister to their car. She winked at me as they walked away. Knowing what the_ real_ reason was behind their leaving, I smiled knowingly.

"What," Gabriel asked in a whisper.

"Oh, nothing." I sat down and was taken by a long, eye-watering yawn.

"You should go to bed, Dorothy. You haven't really slept since yesterday," Gabriel commented.

"Neither have you," I pointed out. "But you're right. I'm exhausted. I'm gonna call it a night.

0o0o0o0o0o


	9. Chapter 9

A month passed uneventfully. Gabriel was put to work on the farm while I took back my old job of helping with the horses. Gradually, he began to relax and the side of him I'd seen when we first met began to show more and more. He had been swept up into events beyond his control, but the simple, kind watchmaker was still there.

To my amusement, he discovered a passionate hate for country music, which wasn't funny in and of itself, but he made the mistake of telling my brothers. After that, country music would blast through the house whenever one of them was around. Unfortunately for Gabriel, in a family as close as ours, one of the boys was _always_ around.

Every evening after dinner we would sit in the swing on the front porch and talk about anything and everything. I found myself looking forward to those talks all day, even when he was teasing me about my accent getting thicker down here or the fact that I wore a cowboy hat on a fairly regular basis.

That morning, I wanted to get back in the saddle, not having had time to do so before. Thinking Gabriel might want to go with me, I went to find him. I heard voices in the kitchen and hesitated, not wanting to interrupt anything. I started to turn away, but stopped when I heard my name.

"You're not beyond redemption, Gabriel." It was my mother. "I've seen your future. I've seen what you're going to do. You've got a rough road ahead, and you need to be strong for it. But I've also seen happiness in your future. You'll have a wife and a son who love you."

"What possible life could I offer to a woman and child?" Gabriel's tone was irritated and sharp. "I'm a murderer. I've killed people horribly, and I'll do it again. How could I trust myself with an innocent woman?"

There was silence for a moment. When my mother spoke, her voice was so soft that I almost couldn't hear it. "Could you hurt my daughter?"

She was met with stony silence.

"No, I didn't think so. You don't have the hunger for her that you do with other people. What are you going to do with all those powers when all of this is over?"

"All I'm focused on right now is keeping us safe."

"Gabriel, I knew who you were the second I saw my daughter coming home. I knew who you were and who you will become before you even left New York. What's more, my daughter knows it, too. I didn't raise a stupid girl. She sees something in you, the same thing that I see. She's a strong woman, stronger than most. If you have her love, she won't turn away."

Knowing it was wrong to continue eavesdropping, I stepped loudly into the kitchen. "Mornin', Momma," I said, kissing her cheek before heading to the counter to grab some coffee. "Gabriel, I thought I could take you horseback riding, if you're interested."

"Yes. Yes, of course," he said, not taking his eyes off my mother. She met his gaze levelly.

"Great," I said, pushing the conversation from my mind. "Let's go."

Gabriel, for all the work he'd been doing on the farm, had never actually ridden one of our horses. Figuring I could show him how to do so later, I quickly saddled one of our tamer horses for him before saddling my own gelding, Eomer. Gabriel, evidently picking up a few tricks just from watching people around the farm, quickly and capably swung himself into the saddle.

"Well, then," I said as I mounted Eomer. "I can't say I'm not kind of impressed. Alright, keep your heels down and hold on with your thighs. Kick him to get him to move. And…pretty much just follow me." Gabriel gave me a look that clearly said 'get on with it', and I bit back a smirk as I kicked Eomer into a walk.

There was a trail I had in mind as we rode. It ran beside the creek by our land, but was difficult to get to except by horseback and completely secluded. It was the most peaceful place I'd ever found, surrounded by trees on all sides, with the water rushing gently over the rocks.

"No one ever comes here," I said, pulling Eomer back to walk beside Gabriel's gelding. "I'm not sure anyone knows about it. In the summer, it's full of wildflowers. Even in winter, though, it's got this…I don't know. Barren beauty. I love it because it feels like there's no one else in the world."

"I've never been anywhere like this," he admitted. "It's beautiful."

I nodded. "But more importantly, we can speak freely here. No one can hear us."

Gabriel wasted no time. "We can't stay with your family any longer. As long as we are here, they are in danger. We've stayed too long already."

"I know." I sighed. "I guess it's just instinct to want to come home and lick your wounds in peace."

He was silent for a moment. "Being here has shown me an entirely new side of you. It makes me wonder…if I should leave."

I looked at him sharply and reined in Eomer. "What makes you say that?"

Gabriel's gelding stopped beside mine. "You come from a completely different world than the one I've dragged you into, and it's clear that you belong here. You're happy here."

"I left, if you remember correctly. I went to New York. I'm happy with _you_."

"You deserve so much more than I can give you, Dorothy. You deserve a home and kids and a husband who comes home every night. I can't give you those things."

I ran a hand through my hair. "You're who I want. And though I hate what your power makes you do, what the company has made you become, I'm still in love with you, Gabriel."

"I'm a murderer."

"You gave in to your hunger for me, to find me, to save me. Do you think I didn't piece together a long time ago why you tried to hang yourself in your shop? It was your first kill, and you were so guilty. But despite that, when I needed you, you did what you had to do. You became Sylar for me."

"And if we never find a way to stop running?"

I looked at the ground and nodded slowly before looking back up at him. "Then I'd rather be running with you than settle down with anyone else. Besides, we will find a way eventually. It will take time, but it will be. If anyone can do it, you can."

His eyes were hard. "How can you have so much faith in me?"

"Because you've never let me down," I replied seriously. In my pocket, my phone started ringing, startling Eomer, who nervously pranced to the side, ready to bolt. I quickly got him under control, keeping an eye on Gabriel's horse, but the much older gelding simply looked bored. I flipped my phone open. "Hello?"

"'Dorothy? It's Jason." It was one of our neighbors, a man who also ran stables. "One of our mares is foaling and I don't enough people to keep an eye on her. Do you mind coming over for a few hours?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll be right there." I flipped the phone shut and shoved it back into my pocket as I looked at Gabriel. "Well, one of the neighbors' mares is foaling. I gotta go."

Gabriel nodded. "So I heard."

Surprised, I arched a brow. My phone wasn't that loud. "What, is super hearing one of your superpowers," I teased.

"Yes."

My jaw hit the ground. "Really?"

He smiled a little in amusement and closed my mouth with a finger under my chin. "Yes, and I also heard you outside the kitchen this morning," he said with an eyebrow raised pointedly at me. I shifted guiltily. "I'll come with you. I don't like the idea of you going alone when the company is still after us."

I grinned mischievously. "You know, the fact that you're so protective of me is a huge turn on."

0o0o0o0o

The temperature was steadily dropping so we stopped by the house for my jacket and hat before setting out. The farm wasn't far away, so twenty minutes later, we were stepping out of the car. "It's odd to not need a coat in December," Gabriel said conversationally as we headed to the stable.

I pulled my jacket tighter around me and looked at him. "Speak for yourself, Billy Yank. It's freezing. I imagine you'd die from heat exhaustion if you came here in August." A man in a cowboy hat was waiting came out of the stable. "Hey, Jason. How's Amy doin'?"

"She's great," he said, shaking my hand. "We're trying for kids, actually."

"Congratulations," I replied with a smile. "I'll have to say hi when I'm finished with the mare. Speaking of, where's Al CaPony?"

"The mare is named Al CaPony," Gabriel asked in amusement.

Jason grinned. "My wife has a strange sense of humor. Follow me."

The mare in question was standing with her head outside the stall. I let her sniff my hand, introducing myself, before I discreetly placed my hand on her nose and closed my eyes. I frowned. She was perfectly healthy in every way, but she wasn't pregnant. She'd never even been pregnant.

"Um, Jason," I started, opening my eyes and turning. I caught sight of Jason's face and instantly knew this was no mistake. Gabriel, standing beside me, suddenly looked at the entrance to the stable, obviously hearing something.

"Dorothy, we need to leave." Gabriel's hand flew up to wave at the stable doors, but nothing happened. He shoved me behind him protectively seconds before two suited men appeared. I placed a hand on his back and stared at Jason.

"Jason, I introduced you to your wife," I said softly. "What have you done?"

"I'm sorry," he said, voice cracking. "But the stable's in trouble and I got a baby comin'."

"Pray my family doesn't find out about what you've done," I hissed. "Money will be the least of your problems."

"Now, now, Dr. DuValier," said one of the men as they walked forward. "That's not very kind. He was just providing for his family."

"You don't speak to her," Gabriel snarled. He flicked his fingers to throw the man aside, to no effect. "The Haitian."

"I see you remember my friend," the man said. "We're new partners, but we seem to work well together."

"What do you want?" I was surprised at how level and cold my voice was.

"We simply want to offer you a job," the man said. "You remember Molly Walker, right? Well, there are other sick people with abilities that need help, help that could save their lives."

"I will not work for the company again."

"I was afraid you'd say that," he said sadly. He opened the folder he was holding and pulled out a picture. "Now, what would your sister say? Or your niece, Charlotte? She's only 9, and such a pretty girl, and has such a knack for healing. Maybe she gets it from her aunt?"

I lunged for him with a snarl, but Gabriel grabbed me and held me back. "Don't you touch them! Don't you DARE touch them!"

"I _will_ kill you," Gabriel promised lowly.

"We won't need to if you both come quietly," the man said calmly. "No one needs to get hurt here today."

"The second your Haitian is gone, you will die," Gabriel growled.

I stared at the man, but I knew my choice had already been made. I couldn't let anything happen to the people I loved. "Gabriel goes free, and I'll come willingly."

"Deal."

"No," Gabriel snarled, grabbing my arm. I put my hand on his.

"I'll be waiting for you to rescue me, Billy Yank," I said softly. "If they kill me, you're the one I'm haunting." I didn't give him time to react before pulling his hand off my arm and walking over to the men, chin high.

"If you hurt her, I will hunt down your family and kill them, and then I'll kill you," Gabriel snarled.

"Don't worry, Sylar. She's an asset to the company," the man told him as I reached them. "Unfortunately, though, I have orders to bring you in." Before I could react to the double-cross (which, really, I should have expected), he pulled out a tazer and shot Gabriel, dropping him like a rock. I screamed and started to run to him, but the Haitian grabbed me and held me. I was screaming Gabriel's name as the Haitian put his hand on my forehead, and then everything was black.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

I woke up on a stretcher and sat up warily.

"I see you're finally awake."

I turned to see the man from the stable standing there. "I'm getting really sick of you guys kidnapping me. What did you do with Gabriel?"

"My name is Bob Bishop, and Sylar is in our custody," said the man.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I want to see him."

He shook his head. "I'm afraid that won't be possible, Miss DuValier. But I'm willing to make you a deal: your compliance in return for Sylar's safety and that of your family."

"His name is Gabriel," I snarled. "Why should I believe you after what happened in the stable?"

Bob regarded me, his head tilted to the side. "You shouldn't. But on the other hand, do you really have a choice?"

I closed my eyes in resignation. "How long are you going to hold against me the ones I love?"

"Until your services are no longer needed," he said seriously as I swung my legs over the sides of the stretcher and stood.

"What do you want me to do," I asked.

"The doctors here will explain your job," he said. "Everything you need has been taken care of."

I eyed him. "Fine. I know the drill. It's not like I really have a choice in the matter anyway."

0o0o0o0o

I smiled at the agent lying on the bed. "You're welcome. You'll need to rest for a few days to rebuild your strength, but you'll be fine." I patted his shoulder and walked out of the room, closing the door behind me before wearily leaning against it. He had been an inch from death and had coded twice even while I healed his body as fast as I could. I glanced at my scrubs. It was my third and last clean pair of the day. I was getting sick of patching up the Company's cannon fodder.

"Miss DuValier?"

I turned to see a familiar face approaching. "Dr. Mohinder Suresh," I greeted with a smile as I straightened. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again. How are you?"

"I'm well," he said, smiling back at me as he accepted my hug. "What are you doing here?"

I pulled away and my smile turned dark. "Bob can be incredibly persuasive when he wants something from you."

There was grim understanding in Mohinder's eyes. "I know this well. Molly is here."

I frowned in concern. "Molly Walker? Is she sick? Was it a recurrence of the Shanti Virus?"

He shook his head. "No, she's….she's in a coma."

"Oh my God, Mohinder." I hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry. Take me to her, maybe I can do something. What happened?"

As we began walking back the way he had come, Mohinder told me about how he and Matt Parkman had adopted Molly. Evidently, Molly had passed out when she tried locating Matt's father and hadn't regained consciousness since. We entered a room and I caught sight of tiny Molly Walker laying on the bed, looking so small with all the wires attached to her.

I sat on the bed and put my hand on her forehead, closing my eyes as I went in. Though there was nothing wrong with her physically, her body was in a heightened level of stress. I calmed her fever, but soon pulled out and shook my head apologetically at Dr. Suresh. "I'm so sorry, Mohinder. There's nothing physically wrong with her. I calmed her fever, but that's all I could do."

He nodded grimly. "Thank you for trying. I honestly didn't think you would be able to do anything." Just then, his phone began ringing and he looked at the caller ID before frowning apologetically at me. I raised my hands with a smile and stepped out of the room to give him privacy. I turned to head to the cafeteria to get some food, but stopped when I saw yet another familiar face.

"I know you," I said, blinking as the woman stopped in front of me.

"I'm Nikki Sanders," she said, smiling warmly and shaking my hand. "You saved my husband's life four months ago."

Memory flashed through me. "That's right. Dr. Dorothy DuValier. How's your family?"

Pain flashed across her face. "D.L. died saving a little girl's life and Mica is with family. I'm working with the company in return for treatment."

I tilted my head to the side slightly. "I'm a healer here. Would you let me take a look? I might be able to help."

She smiled slightly. "My body is fine, Doctor. It's my mind that needs help."

I nodded in understanding and opened my mouth to speak, but my pager went off. "Well, Mohinder is in Molly's room if you're looking for him," I said, checking the device. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. It was nice seeing you."

We parted ways and I went to take care of my next patient. I was just entering a room when the alarms started going off and one of my colleagues stopped me. "Dorothy, we gotta go. They're evacuating the building," Rebecca said.

"Why?" I checked my patient's vitals as orderlies came in the room to move him. "He's stable. He can go," I told one of the orderlies.

"No one seems to know," Rebecca said while we walked out of the room and into the flow of people leaving the building. Everyone was moved to a bunker of sorts and the doctors tried to resume our work as best we could.

After a few hours (and no explanation), we got the all clear to return. As I helped transport the patients back to their rooms, my pager went off again and I checked it to see a message from Mohinder.

"Mohinder," I asked, stepping into the lab where he'd told me to meet him. Nikki was sitting on a stool with an IV of blood.

"Thank you for coming, Dorothy," he said, grasping me by the shoulders. "I need your help. Nikki injected herself with the Shanti Virus."

I took in Mohinder's broken nose and then Nikki's IV. "You'll have to explain that to me sometime. Alright, I'll let you work on the blood samples while I get to work on Nikki." I pulled up a stool and sat in front of her. "Mrs. Sanders, I think you owe me a drink and a good story," I commented in amusement. She smiled tiredly and let me take her hand.

"Will it hurt," she asked me.

I smiled gently. "No. When I heal a patient, I dampen their pain receptors. You won't feel anything."

I went in deep, just like I had with Molly Walker, and began to help Mohinder's antibodies eradicate the virus. Well, tried to, anyway. I opened my eyes.

"Mohinder," I said, my tone questioning. "What's going on here?"

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "The virus has mutated. It's immune." He looked at Nikki in resignation. "My blood is no longer a cure."

"I can't do anything, then. All I do is accelerate the process."

"So I'm going to die," Nikki said softly.

I turned to her. "No." Both of them looked at me in surprise. "I can't get rid of the virus, but I can reverse the damage it does to your body indefinitely."

"I have to give these findings to Bishop," Mohinder said, gathering a file. "We have to stop this research."

"I have to go check on my patients. Come find me when you're done," I told him as I stood. "I'll check on Molly, too."

I had received a new patient after the All Clear, it seemed, as I was handed a patient chart. Patient Maury Parkman was in a coma and I had strict orders to do nothing more than keep him stable. I could easily put two and two together, and I knew that this was Parkman's father and that he had something to do with Nikki injecting herself and all the panic around the hospital.

I made sure all my patients were settled and resting before I went to Molly's room. To my surprise and happiness, she was awake and talking to Officer Matt Parkman. I grinned and knocked on the door to announce my presence.

"Dorothy," Molly exclaimed happily.

"Hey, little lady," I greeted warmly, still grinning. "Nice to see you awake."

"Matt saved me," she said, beaming at her dad. I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

"Do you mind if I check you over," I asked as I sat on the bed with her. "I want to make sure you're ok." She readily put her hand in mine. When I was satisfied that the little girl was healthy as the proverbial horse, I released her hand with a squeeze. "My goodness, you're healthier than I am." I glanced at her father. "Officer Parkman, can I talk to you outside for a second?"

"Yeah, sure." He stood and kissed Molly on the head before joining me outside the room.

"Mr. Parkman—"

"Call me Matt," he interrupted with a smile.

I smiled back. "Matt, then. I just wanted to make sure you were ok. Your father was added to my patient list and…well, I just wanted to see how you were. If you needed any help."

"I…he was never really my father. He left when I was a kid. I'm fine, especially now that Molly's ok. I wanted to thank you for taking care of her, by the way. Both from the Shanti Virus and today."

I squeezed his arm. "It was my pleasure. Molly is a special girl."

"Yeah, she is," he said, looking at his daughter through the window. He turned back to me. "You're a good woman, Dr. DuValier."

I smiled. "I'm not a doctor, and my name is Dorothy."

We were interrupted by the arrival of Mohinder. "How is she doing," he asked us.

"She's as healthy as a proverbial horse. I'd say she's ready to go home tonight. As for you, Mohinder Suresh," I said, voice becoming stern, "I want to heal that nose and I want you to tell me everything that happened."

He hesitated, but seemed to reason that I was ok to tell. "Let me say hello to Molly first, and then I'll tell you everything," he reluctantly.

As I healed his nose and then nursed a coffee, Mohinder told me the whole story. Everything about the company we were working for and the original founders, their betrayals, and the twisted web we were stuck in. We talked for a good two hours, Mohinder and Parkman patiently explaining everything they knew. When we finished, I filled out the paperwork for them to take Molly home and we went our separate ways.

After, when the hospital was still and quiet, I went to Maury Parkman's room and sat there for a while. I thought about all that had happened in the last few months. The Company blackmailing me, the fear for my family, being forced to patch up agents of a company I hated, the constant worry about Gabriel.

Gabriel. I didn't even know if he was alive. Was he ok? Was he scared? Had the Company killed him? I knew they wouldn't tell me anything. Maybe he had escaped. It was hard to imagine any cell being able to contain someone as powerful as Gabriel was.

Finally, I got up and made my way to my apartment. When I first returned to New York with the company several weeks ago, I'd been impressed by how well the Company had cleaned it up. Everything was exactly the way I'd left it.

I opened the door and threw down my keys before throwing my coat on the coat hanger. I kicked off my shoes and socks and pulled my hair out of its bun and shook it out with relief as I walked barefoot to the kitchen. More than anything right now, I wanted a glass of wine and a bubble bath.

Settling for tea and a book, I pulled out the pitcher and began to make myself a glass, but stopped as I heard something in my living room. My hands were shaking as I set down the glass and pulled a knife out silently before slowly looking out into the other room. What I saw there made my heard stop.

Tossing the knife aside, I ran to Gabriel and leapt on him. He caught me easily and held me in a bone crushing hug. Even as his lips met mine, I felt tears spill from the corners of my eyes. I pulled back and buried my face in his neck.

"Are you really here? Is it really you? I'm not just going crazy," I mumbled into his neck. I was probably squeezing the life out of him, but he was holding me just as tightly.

"It's me. It's alright, it's alright. Shhh." He held me close as I cried.

"They wouldn't tell me anything. I was so scared you were dead. But you're here. You're safe."

I began kissing him desperately and deeply. Not breaking the kiss, he picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. I began unbuttoning his shirt as he turned to press me against the wall. We kissed frantically, needing to reassure each other that we were both alive, both here, both safe.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

"So, you're telling me that there's some woman wandering New York who can kill people when she gets hormonal, and that you can't use your powers?" I sat next to him on the bed with my legs tucked beneath me as I finished braiding my hair in preparation for sleep.

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "I don't know what's happening to me."

I smiled reassuringly at him, leaning down so he'd look at me as I put a hand on his shoulder. I was beginning to realize I was probably the only person on Earth who could do so without suffering consequences. "It'll be ok, Gabriel. You did the right thing, coming to me first. You're tired and your body has been through a lot these past weeks. Let me heal you. It's possible I can fix this." I had a suspicion that I knew exactly what I would find, and it had something to do with Nikki Sanders and Molly Walker. I decided not to tell him about Nikki until I knew one way or other, though I had a sinking feeling what I would find.

He looked at me for a moment before finally leaning back against the headboard to watch me. Taking this as permission, I laid a hand on his arm and closed my eyes.

He really had been through a great deal in the past weeks. His body was healthy, if a little banged up, and I healed all the damage dehydration, sun exposure, and starvation had done. What made me nervous, however, was what I found as I went deeper, to the cellular level. It was as I had feared.

_Damn_ the company and all they had to answer for.

I opened my eyes to find him watching me. I wrestled for a few seconds with what to say. "The company has injected you with the Shanti Virus. It takes away abilities and eventually kills its victims. I…can't cure this one."

0o0o0o0o

When I woke up, Gabriel was behind me with an arm curled protectively around my waist. I smiled as I carefully slipped out of his embrace, trying not to wake him.

We'd spent much of the night talking (in between bouts of other activities that left me deliciously sore this morning), and he had told me about being sent to Mexico and all that had happened to get back here. After hearing about one of his companion's ability to poison people with her mind, I insisted on checking him for any residual effects.

What I'd seen shocked me to my core. His body was healthy, if a little banged up, and I healed all the damage dehydration, sun exposure, and starvation had done. What shocked me, however, was that he had been injected with the Shanti virus, the same strain that Nikki had. Having to explain what the virus was, and that I couldn't heal it, had been excruciating.

I pulled his shirt on before going to the kitchen. I was ravenously hungry, and I knew that he probably would be, too. Falling into my normal morning routine, I turned on my cd player and turned it down so that it wouldn't wake Gabriel, laughing when _My Boyfriend's Back_ immediately came up on the shuffle.

Dancing, I turned on the coffee maker and set about making breakfast. Soon, the apartment smelled wonderfully of fresh coffee and eggs.

I jumped and laughed when I felt arms wrap around me and a kiss on my neck. Smiling at my reaction, he pressed a kiss to my jaw and released me to pour our coffee. "I figured you'd probably be hungry, so I made scrambled eggs," I said as I put the last one on his plate. He finished making his coffee and we brought breakfast into the bedroom. "So what's the plan? Where do we go from here?"

"'We' do nothing. You're staying here, safe," he said pointedly.

"You're a funny man, Gabriel Gray," I retorted humorlessly, staring at him hard.

"What I'm doing is dangerous, Dorothy. I need to know you're safe."

I stared at the coffee in my hands, swirling it around in the mug. "Do you know what they're making me do? I'm their personal do-over button. They find people with abilities and torture them to find their limits, and if they push someone farther than their body can take, they call me in. Then they repeat the process. And when I'm not fixing their lab rats, I'm fixing the agents forced to go get capture them. I go with you or I don't. Either way, I'm not staying here."

We both stayed silent for a while, eating our breakfasts. He needed to think, to process and plan his next move and where I fit into them, so I decided to give him time. I kissed his cheek to show I wasn't mad and went to take a shower.

I had just finished drying my hair and putting on makeup when he came in and stood behind me, watching me. As we regarded each other in the mirror, I realized how different we were. Like him, I was tall with dark hair, but the similarities ended there. Where his eyes were dark and his skin tanned from days or weeks in the sun, I had my father's light blue eyes and pale skin. He was broad and hard, I was slender and soft.

He was a killer, I was a healer.

"Costa Verde."

I cocked my head to the side. "What's in Costa Verde? For that matter, _where_ is Costa Verde?"

"It's in California. There's a girl there who can cure me."

Disgruntled and slightly affronted, I turned to frown up at him with my hands on my hips. "What's her power?"

He looked momentarily surprised, then amused. "She has Rapid Cellular Regeneration. Her blood can cure the virus. There's no need to be jealous. She's not a healer."

Not wanting to show my relief, I sniffed and gave him what he'd once termed my 'haughty princess look'. "I'm not _jealous._ I'm not! Well, maybe a little. Don't give me that look. How would you feel if you'd worked your tail off to become the BAMF of the healing world, only to be told that your favorite patient wants a second opinion? Stop laughing. Gabriel! Stop it!"

Gabriel just laughed harder.

"You know, the next time you get yourself stabbed with a katana or beaten with a parking meter, you're on your own," I said, crossing my arms.

Gradually, Gabriel's laughter calmed, but his eyes remained brighter than they'd been in a long time. "I'm sorry. I just didn't realize that your pride was so sensitive."

I debated for a moment whether I should rise to that, but decided to let it go. "Let's go manifest the crap out of some destiny, then."


	10. Chapter 10

**I think I forgot to update yesterday, so I'm posting two chapters tonight to make up for it.**

0o0o0o0o0o0o

I threw my bag on the hotel bed. It had been a long flight from New York, but we had finally arrived in Costa Verde. Gabriel had said he had to see a girl named Claire Bennet, so I had checked us into the hotel.

All day, I'd had a bad feeling that I was unable to shake. I told myself that I was being crazy. My mother was the one who could see the future, but then, she'd always said that women had an intuition that men simply lacked.

I paced the room restlessly. Something was wrong, I knew it.

As though controlled by someone else, my hand went to the hotel room phone and began to dial my family's home number. Internally, I was screaming at myself not to do it. In my bones, I knew that if I placed the call, my life would never be the same.

"Hello?" My father's voice was shaking. My heart sank.

"Daddy? What's wrong?"

"Oh, God. Dorothy." I heard him take a deep, shaky breath. "It's your sister. There's been an accident. I…I…" My father's voice disintegrated into sobs. I heard someone else take the phone from him.

"Dorothy, it's Jerry Callahan." He was our town's deputy sheriff, a man I'd grown up with. In my heart, I knew what he was going to say before he said it.

"Rose is dead, isn't she," I whispered.

"I'm sorry, Dorothy. The paramedics did everything they could, but there was nothing they could do. I'm so sorry."

I collapsed into a chair. "How did she die," I heard myself ask.

"Maybe your father—"

I cut him off. "Tell me, Jerry."

There was a pause. "It looks like she was electrocuted, but there was a shotgun with spent rounds on the floor next to her. Whoever it was, she fought back fiercely."

I went cold. "Do you have any leads?"

Jerry sighed. "Not officially, no, but there were two people in town earlier asking about her, a man and a woman from a company called Pinehearst."

I frowned. Pinehearst wasn't the alias The Company used, but I was reeling inside and couldn't process it. It felt like my mind had shut down.

"Thank you, Jerry." I hesitated before speaking again. "It's not safe for me to come home. I need you to take care of my family for me."

"Always, Dorothy."

Numbly, I hung up the phone. I felt dizzy and disoriented and light-headed.

In a daze, I went to the bathroom and turned on the shower, not even bothering to get undressed as I stepped in.

My sister was dead.

Rose had been murdered.

My _sister _had been _murdered_ because of the attention _I'd _brought to our family.

I was cold. Even as the hot water poured over my face and burned my skin, I couldn't stop shivering.

Images of Rose ran like a slideshow through my mind.

She and Momma teaching me how to cook.

Teaching me how to use make up.

Helping me get ready for my first date.

Holding her hand at Grandma's funeral.

Listening to her giggle as she told me about her first date with Adam.

Comforting me after I broke up with my first boyfriend.

The pride in her eyes when Tommy and Jack graduated from Marine bootcamp.

Being with her during her first pregnancy, and then Charlotte's birth.

Helping me pack for my move to New York.

The bathroom door opened and Gabriel entered and saw me sitting fully clothed under the spray of the water. "Dorothy? What's wrong? What happened?"

I just looked at him dumbly. Couldn't he tell that the world wasn't the same? Couldn't he feel it? "They killed Rose." He stood there as if he were frozen.

"I can't breathe. Gabriel, I can't…I can't breathe." My voice cracked and something inside me broke. I started sobbing. Wordlessly, Gabriel stepped into the shower and wrapped his arms around me, rocking me back and forth as I cried.

Eventually, the water went cold. He turned it off before picking me up and set me on the toilet, gently taking off my wet clothes and then his before carrying me to the bed and curling up behind me. I fell asleep in his arms, surrounded by his comforting and familiar scent.

0o0o0o0o0

I sat up in the bed, realizing that Gabriel was getting dressed. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to raise a little hell over in Primatech." His voice was darkly amused, but he didn't face me.

My eyes narrowed, anger burning low in my stomach at the name. "Take me with you."

Not expecting my request, Gabriel turned to look at me. His eyes were dark, and I knew from the expression on his face that this was Sylar I was talking to. "I'm going to kill people, Dorothy."

I swung my legs out of the bed and stood, wrapping the sheet around me. "Think about it. You have the power to bust in, but I have access codes. With me, you get in without raising any alarms. You get your revenge, and I get access to their computers. I _must _find out who killed Rose. I owe it to her."

"You're going to…help me kill people," he said slowly, as if he couldn't wrap his mind around it.

"No," I corrected. "I'm going to get you into the facility where you are going to focus on the level 5 prisoners. Most of them will be put down anyway when they are of no more use to the company, and believe me when I say you're method is far kinder than what the company will do," I said bitterly. Images of tortured bodies I had been called in to heal flashed through my head, but I shoved them away.

Gabriel still looked unconvinced, so I rushed on. "No one questions people in scrubs, so it's unlikely we'll be stopped if you're with me. Besides," I said dryly, "the company has a knack for finding me when you're not around anyway. Either way, I'll probably end up there."

His gaze was black and unblinking for a moment, the wheels turning in his head as I waited for his decision. "Get dressed."

I grinned and quickly threw on my scrubs, grateful that I'd had the foresight to pack a pair. I took just long enough to throw on makeup, knowing I'd need to look professional if I didn't want to be questioned. Five minutes later, Sylar and I strode out to the car.

We pulled up to the Primatech compound and climbed out of the car. "Stay a step behind me," I told him as we approached the building. I swiped my card through the door scanner, and the machine beeped once before the door swung open. Quickly, I led him to one of the elevators. One of the guards was staring at us, but I smiled sweetly at him. "How's your day going?"

"Fine," he said politely, relaxing as he evidently judged that we were supposed to be there. The elevator finally opened, and I stepped inside, keeping my relaxed smile on just until the doors slid closed.

"Lord the guards here are idiots," I murmured. Sylar simply eyed me darkly as I punched the button for the administrative level. At the very least, Primatech was fairly uniform in their building layouts. A minute later, the doors slid open and we strode down the hall.

We reached a common area where a secretary was obviously usually posted. She must be on her break or something. Quickly, I walked around the waist level wrap around desk and sat down in her chair. Her computer was password locked.

"I'll be back in a moment," Sylar said, staring down the hall with a dark smile. "I see an old friend is here."

I nodded distractedly, not really listening as I tried to guess the woman's password. "I'm a secretary who has to log in every time I access the computer," I murmured thoughtfully. Narrowing my eyes, I typed in the first thing that came to mind: PassW0rd.

The computer opened willingly to me, and I rolled my eyes. Security was iron tight in this building, alright. Quickly, I accessed the Primatech Database and searched for any information on Rose DuValier. I kept an eye on the elevator as I read, not wanting a certain secretary to catch me unawares.

There wasn't much on her, but there was plenty on me and Charlotte. All it said about Rose was that she had evidently walked in on the company trying to take Charlotte, and had been killed by Agent Elle Bishop in self-defense.

Hearing footsteps, I quickly exited the computer, careful to make sure everything was as it had been before, and stood. It was only Sylar returning. "Did you find anything?"

"Only that she was killed by Elle Bishop," I murmured as I fell in step beside him.

He looked at me sharply. "Elle Bishop?"

"You know her?"

"She was the one who…when you went missing, she deliberately brought me a man from Suresh's list," he said grimly as we entered the elevator. "She goaded me into my first kill."

"Classy woman." As with all Primatech facilities, the elevator panel only read 4 stories, all of them above ground. In order to get to the underground levels, you had to punch a sequence in. Sylar watched as I did so, and I knew he was memorizing it.

The elevator descended to level 5, and we stepped off. When I didn't get off the elevator, Sylar looked at me. "We part ways here," I explained. "I'm going to release the level 2 prisoners. They're just people who the company finds and kidnaps to research their powers. Most of them are children."

Sylar nodded and stepped off the elevator. Less than a minute later, I stepped off as well, three floors above him. I had barely made it to the first room when the lights flickered out, leaving me in total darkness. "I leave him alone for five seconds," I muttered to myself.

A few seconds later, the backup generator kicked in, and with it, the emergency lights and a screeching power-outage alarm that meant any holding cells were now open. "Well, this is less than ideal."

People began locking the doors from the inside, security protocol for power outages, in case escapees came to this level. I had to get out before the power was restored. When it was, security and company agents would be scouring the building in search of escapees, and anyone not where they were supposed to be would be shot on sight.

I booked it to the stairwell, knowing that I would need to outrun the prisoners trying to break out. In my blue scrubs, I looked like I worked for the company, which meant they would kill me in a heartbeat. "I'm going to kill that man when I see him. Less than five minutes alone and he knocks out the power. He is in so much trouble. Jesus, I'm out of shape."

There were voices behind me, and I pushed myself to move faster, already taking the stairs two at a time. I came to an emergency door and threw myself against it, only to bounce off with a curse. My only exit was locked. "Who the_ fuck_ locks an emergency door," I cried, panicking as the voices got closer. I was trapped.

And then the prisoners were upon me, and I was pressing myself against the wall as a large man raised his flaming hand to blast me. A hand whipped out and stopped him. "Leave her," said the Hispanic man. "She's just a nurse."

"No she's not," said a wiry black man. "She's a healer. I've seen her work. We might need her later. Grab her, but don't let her touch you."

Oh, Gabriel was in _soooo _much trouble.

"She'll come quietly or Flint will burn her," said a blond man with glasses and a German accent.

I threw up my hands in exasperation. "Why not? Everyone else has kidnapped me, why not you guys?"

With strength that told of his power, the black man forced the door open and Flint pulled me out into the sunshine by my ponytail. I grimaced at the pain, but made no move to get away or stop him.

Quickly, the German waved his hand at a car and all the doors opened as it started. Flint shoved me into the back seat as they all crammed in. Suddenly, I was squished between Flint and the Hispanic man.

"You try anything funny and I'll show you what pain feels like," Flint growled.

It was all I could do not to roll my eyes. Yes, because the opportune moment of escape is plainly when I'm crammed like a sardine in a car of supercharged criminals going 80 down the highway. Clearly, I had been spoiled by Sylar's higher caliber villainy.

We drove for a few hours in relative silence, during which I tried to get a read on everyone. The black man, called Knox, was evidently more of the leader. His power seemed to be super strength. Flint was obviously the requisite idiot of the group. Well, every group had to have one. The German was evidently either electrical or magnetic, judging by the way he'd opened and started the car like that.

It was the Hispanic man, Jesse, that confused me. He'd tried to keep them from killing me, which was unusual in the world of Level 5 criminals.

Bowing my head to pretend to stare at my lap, I closed my eyes and reached out, a simple feat given that our legs were pressed together.

What I saw in Jesse surprised and confused me. His brain patterns were everywhere, something I'd never seen before. I didn't know what to attribute it to, but because of it, I couldn't get a read on what his power was. It was like static from picking up two channels at once.

Bewildered, I pulled out. Multiple personalities maybe? I'd never encountered one before, so I supposed it was possible. Or maybe he'd been tortured by the company and they'd messed up his brain, though I'd never seen anything to indicate the company had the power to do so.

"What?"

I started, realizing I had been frowning at him, trying to figure him out. "Sorry," I muttered, flustered, and returned my gaze to my lap.

It didn't really matter, I supposed. After all, Sylar was going to come for me, and these idiots had nothing on him.

0o0o0o0o0

We stopped at a gas station sometime after nightfall. Jesse went off to make a phone call as Flint dragged me out of the car. There was a middle aged couple gassing up their BMW SUV, but I paid them no attention, distracted by the fact that my eyeballs were floating.

"I'm going to use the restroom."

"The hell you are," Flint retorted.

"1, you will watch your language and speak to me like the lady I am. 2, unless you want me to pee on you, then yes, I am," I countered firmly, striding confidently into the gas station. You don't stand between a full bladder and the bathroom unless you have a loaded 12-gauge and an itchy trigger finger.

I was coming back out of the restroom when a flash of fire caught my eye, and I ran out to see Flint throwing a woman onto the ground and blasting her with fire as the German punched her husband. "No," I screamed as I ran to her, but Flint grabbed me by my ponytail and yanked me back.

"What are you doing," Jesse asked as he came up.

"Just having a little fun," the German commented as he walked past Jesse. With a flick of his hand, he opened and started the couple's SUV, and Flint shoved me inside next to the German before climbing in after me.

"You comin'," Knox asked Jesse as he climbed behind the wheel. "It's now or never."

"Do you understand now who you're dealin' with, sugar," Flint asked with a laugh.

I was shaking with fury. "I'm not yer sugar," I growled, anger making my accent thick.

"Wooohoo," Flint laughed. "Still feisty. Someone didn't show you to respect men. But I bet I can," he said as he grabbed my arm. Realizing a second too late what he was about to do, I struggled to get away, but only succeeded in landing across the German's lap. The man laughed and helped hold me down.

I screamed against the hand the German had clapped over my mouth as Flint pressed his palm onto my arm without tattoos, searing the thin skin. I thrashed instinctively to get away from the pain, shivers of agony running up my spine as my skin crawled. Dimly, I heard Jesse yelling at them to stop, but I could only focus on the pain. As his hand stayed on my skin, I vaguely realized I'd stopped screaming and was only groaning now.

After what seemed like hours but was probably only about a minute, the men released me with a laugh, but I could only lay panting and shaking on the German's lap.

The small, still functioning part of my brain told me that it was a 3rd degree burn as the brand itself didn't hurt. Sure, the nerves that hadn't died were screaming at the top of their lungs, drowning out everything else. Not for the first time, I wished I could heal myself, or at least turn off my own pain receptors.

Tears pricked my eyes, and oh, God, where are you, Gabriel? I need you. Why does this keep happening to me?

_Because you are strong enough to take it_, whispered a calm voice from the back of my mind, one that sounded like Rose. _Gabriel will come for you, just as he always has. Now stop wallowing, pick yourself up, and don't let these rat bastards see you cry. _

With renewed resolve, I picked myself up of the laughing German's lap and blinked the tears away. These assholes would have to do a lot better than that if they wanted to break me.

Jesse was watching me, silently asking with his eyes if I was ok, but I glared at him and raised my chin just a hint in challenge.


	11. Chapter 11

0o0o0o0

We pulled up in front of a bank, and it was all I could do not to curse. Really? Of all the crappy criminals to be stuck with, I get kidnapped and tortured by bank robbers? Were they that unoriginal? This week was turning out to be even worse than I'd thought.

Flint, who I was beginning to think had a hair fetish, looped his hand around my ponytail and tugged me out of the car. As I was pulled into the bank, I decided that the first thing I was doing when I found a way out of this was shaving my head.

A flick of the German's hand and the bank shutters all closed, causing gasps and murmurs from the crowd of people inside. "Light it up," Knox said coolly. Flint shoved me and sent me stumbling into Jesse, who caught me.

"Everyone on the ground NOW," Flint yelled, sending flames shooting over the people's heads. Glaring at Jesse, I straightened and tugged indignantly on my shirt as people began screaming.

"What should I do with the girl," Jesse asked.

"The little doctor will behave," Knox said casually, "because every time she doesn't, we'll kill one of our new hostages."

I closed my eyes, trying not to look at the pleading gazes of the people staring at me now. Knox went to join the German opening the vault, and Flint began taking anything of value from the hostages and the desks.

"Keep your heads down, all of you," Jesse barked at the hostages. Discreetly, I glanced around, trying to see if there was anything I could use, but there was nothing. What could there possibly be, after all, that could be used against a pyrokinetic, the hulk, magneto, and whatever Jesse turned out to be?

"Ah, ah, ah. No alarms." I looked up to see Flint taunting a pretty bank teller by a desk.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered.

"Yeah, you are, but maybe you can work it off," he said, grabbing her. Oh crap. Jesse moved towards him, and I knew that he would fight the other man, probably leading to innocents being hurt.

"Hey," I yelled, catching everyone's attention as I walked towards them. "What's the matter, Flint? Can't handle a woman who can fight back? Or maybe you're just scared I'd take care of what I'm guessing is a _little_," I flicked my eyes down to his crotch with a pointed smirk, "problem?"

"I guess one lesson wasn't enough," Flint said, throwing the woman down and striding towards me. "Maybe you'll get it the second time."

"It's open," the German called.

"Let's go collect our winnings," Flint told Jesse triumphantly, and I exhaled the breath I'd been holding. It took all my resolve not to sag with relief as the men moved into the vault.

Knox came to stand by me, peering out the window. I was startled when he began speaking to me. "You'd better be as important as they say."

I looked at him sharply. "As who says? And why do you care?"

"The other doctors. After you healed me, they were talking about how much the company wanted you. And I care, because you're going to get me my revenge."

"If you were going to kill me, you would have done it already." I said it with more confidence than I felt, and I hoped it was true.

"Yeah, we would have, but you're not the one we're after. HRG is."

I glanced at the floor, trying to decipher the acronym. "Horn Rimmed Glasses," I guessed after a moment. "You're after Bennet?"

"Give the girl a cigar." His gaze was still outside. Hearing sirens, I finally turned to see what he was looking at, only to watch several police cruisers skid to a stop on the curb.

"This is all of it," the German said as he came out of the vault holding bags. Jesse and Flint followed. "Let's move."

The three men stopped as they saw the police. "How'd they know we were here," Flint asked, and I was kind of curious myself.

"Probably because I called them," Knox answered.

"You what?" The German set down the bags.

"This wasn't just about the money," Knox said matter-of-factly. "In fact, it was mostly about revenge."

"Well, it was about the money for me, so I'm going to take mine and leave before the company shows up," the German said, pulling out a gun. I can only blame it on extreme emotional and physical exhaustion, but I didn't catch Knox's plan until the German practically spelled it out for me.

Impressed, I had to admit I'd underestimated Knox. Granted, this was a terrible plan and there was no doubt in my mind that he would be put down like a rabid dog. But still, I didn't think he had it in him.

"The company is supposed to show up," Knox said, standing and walking to the German, "while I got all these scared people powering me up."

"Look, we got what we needed. Let's just get out of here." Jesse was really turning out to be the crappiest criminal of the bunch, even beating out Flint. How on earth had he ever landed on Level 5? Not that I was really complaining that the guy had something close to a conscience, but it was certainly unexpected.

If there was anything I was starting to hate more than getting kidnapped, it was surprises.

Before I could blink, Knox had punched straight through the German's abdomen, pinning him to the wall behind him. I gasped and my hands flew to cover my mouth, but I made no move to help him. Knox would do that to me in a heartbeat.

"What are you doing," Jesse snapped.

"Following the plan," Knox said, frowning at him.

"Yeah, what is the plan exactly," Flint asked uncertainly.

"Stay put, raise hell, wait for the man the company sends. Super people do bad things. And after he gets here, I'm gonna beat his horn rimmed glasses right into his skull. Right, Jesse?" Jesse smirked in reply.

I wanted very badly to point out the holes in this particular plan. What was he going to do about the Haitian? None of them would have any powers, and both agents would carry guns and/or tasers. What about all the people here, who would undoubtedly turn on them the second the men lost their powers? Or the police, who would shoot them?

I kept silent, though. Maybe I could help if anyone else got hurt.

"Get the body out of here," Knox said, moving to one of the tables. Stress was beginning to get to me, and his calm had become irritating. Flint set down his bags and began to pull the German away.

"So what if he doesn't show," Jesse asked, peering out from the screens at the police.

"He always does. We have her," he said, jerking his chin in my direction, "and we are making a scene. They'll send him to us, and then we're gonna get our payback."

"I don't know if I want it anymore."

"I was in the cell next to you month after month, and this was all you talked about. One stop shopping, revenge for the time…about being free." He laughed a little. "I never told you, but…it gave me hope. It probably saved my life."

"We're free now….why do you want to tempt fate?"

"What are you so afraid of," Knox asked, standing.

"I just don't want to go back. I don't like feeling trapped…powerless. I just wanna get back to my old life." I could understand that. I felt it enough with the company. _Stop that_, whispered my inner voice. _No feeling sorry for the guys that kidnapped you._

"Yeah, I bet you just can't wait to get back to your family and friends in Detroit."

Jesse laughed a little. "Yeah, exactly."

"Except Jesse's family's from Vegas." Before I could react, Knox had Jesse in a stranglehold. "And he ain't got no friends." Knox hurled Jesse one handed through the air at a pillar, eliciting cries from the hostages. Summoning my courage, I placed myself between the hostages and the men. This could easily escalate and get an innocent killed. "So who the hell are you?"

"Peter Petrelli. Someone put me in his body against my will."

As Flint returned from hiding the German's body to help Knox, I tried to remember why the name sounded so familiar. Petrelli, Petrelli, Petrelli….Nathan Petrelli, the senator from New York….but there was something else…

Angela Petrelli.

One of the founding members of the company.

I closed my eyes. The company would be coming in force. I didn't know whether to feel relieved or even more alarmed.

"Tell the truth!" Knox slammed Jesse…or Peter?...onto a table.

"I told you, someone put me in his body against my will!"

"Then why'd you come along with us? You had plenty of chances to bail." Knox picked Jesse up, and Flint sucker punched him in the gut.

"You had the girl. I couldn't let you hurt her." Flint punched him again.

"Now I know you're full of it. No one's that heroic," Knox scoffed.

He'd been trying to protect me? Well, given that I was now permanently branded, he was doing a pretty crappy job of it. I clenched my hands into fists and turned to the window, knowing I couldn't help him. And why did I want to? He was one of the ones to kidnap me.

As I peered out the window, I nearly swallowed my tongue when I spotted two suited men outside. One was talking to a policeman, but the other…those were horn rimmed glasses and red hair.

The cavalry had arrived.

"Guys, guys," I said, turning to where Jesse was having the stuffing knocked out of him. "You want your revenge? Well, the company is here, including your favorite agent."

Instantly, Knox threw Jesse to the ground to go look, and I hastily went to Jesse. Flint tried to stop me, but a flash of anger and pain surged through me when he happened to grab me on the exact spot where my brand was healing, and I felt my power instinctively reach out to him. Without my sayso, he fell to the ground unconscious.

Well, that's new.

"You are either the dumbest man I've ever met," I murmured as I knelt beside Jesse, "or the most heroic." I took his hand and had just enough time to knock out his ability to feel pain before Knox yanked me back.

"What the hell'd you do to Flint," Knox snapped, pinning me to a table with his hand around my throat.

"I'll fix it," I choked, my eyes flicking to Jesse behind him.

"Yeah, you will." Knox let me up, and I hurriedly went to revive Flint. "And then you're going to go tell HRG that he's going to come in here, unarmed, and we'll release the hostages. If you fuck it up, she dies," he said, jerking his chin at some secretary, who proceeded to whimper pathetically.

A brush of my power, and Flint opened his eyes. "And if a trigger happy cop shoots me on sight," I snapped.

"I guess you'd better hope they don't."

I stared at him for a moment, but finally clenched my jaw and moved to the door. Terror surged through me and I shivered for a moment before forcing my shaking hands into the air and nudged the door open with my hip.

My heart was pounding as I moved to the second door, my wide eyes taking in the guns and cameras trained on me. I swallowed hard and stepped into the sunlight with my hands up and shaking visibly.

I saw Bennet staring at me and it took several tries before I could speak. "They said they'll release the hostages if you come, alone and unarmed."

"I will come."

My gaze flicked around for the Haitian, but I didn't see him.

What I did see, though, made my heart stop. Gabriel had come. He was the other agent. Relief flooded me so fiercely that it took all my courage and resolve not to run to him.

Gabriel nodded once, and it was all the reassurance I needed. Keeping one hand in the air, I turned and opened the door before going back inside.

"Well?"

Shakily, I leaned against the glass wall and willed my heart to stop pounding. "Bennet is coming."

Knox clapped me on the shoulder. "Excellent."

It took only a few minutes for Bennet to appear, but the wait seemed to drag on. Finally, he was approaching the building with his hands in the air and a bullet proof vest on.

"I'm here, Knox. Let the hostages go."

"You heard the man," Knox barked at the crowd. "Get out."

The people began to clamber to their feet and move to the doors. The secretary who had tried to sound the alarm passed me and sent me a look of gratitude as she walked through the doors.

For a moment, I debated if I was able to leave with them, and oh, god, how I wanted to. Gabriel was out there. But I should have known from recent stream of luck that it wasn't going to be that easy.

"Oh, no, the good doctor is going to stay here," Knox said, yanking me back by the ponytail when I moved to follow the hostages. He shoved me into a table.

"Yeah, I thought as much," I sighed.

"You took away my life," Knox said, shoving Bennet into a chair.

"You're a criminal, Knox," Bennet replied calmly.

"Criminals get trials and lawyers. Me, I got stuck in super Guantanamo."

"You got a bum rap, is that it?"

"I think you get off being judge, jury, and executioner. Now it's my turn."

"Knox, you don't have to do this," Jesse said from where he was on the floor. Flint stood over him as guard. "You can walk away. You're free now."

"SHUT UP!" Knox's yell reverberated around the now empty bank. "I'm done listening to you!"

"No! NO ONE DIES TODAY!"

My mouth fell open as everything in the direction Jesse had screamed suddenly flew backwards, as though a gale force wind had come from the man. For a moment, we all froze.

Jesse stood up, suddenly determined and with a shiny new power. "LISTEN TO ME!"

I was lifted off my feet by an unseen force and hurled against…

A puddle.

I was sitting in a puddle in an alley on a cloudy day in what sounded like New York. Wherever it was, it was certainly not a bank. I blinked, suddenly feeling very much like Gandalf in Moria: 'I have no memory of this place.'

A hand came into my line of vision, and I followed it up to see a wiry dark haired man with a deep facial scar dressed in black. Hesitantly, I accepted it. "Have I been kidnapped again? This abduction thing is really starting to get out of hand."

He smiled at me with what looked like affection born of familiarity. "I'm Peter Petrelli, and so is that."

I raised an eyebrow and turned to see an identical man standing behind me. The clothes were different, and there was no scar, but it was obviously the same man. He even held himself the same.

There was a time where I would have been dubious at the least, but now I didn't even bat an eyelash. I was getting way too comfortable with weird stuff. "So, which one of you was Jesse?"

The one without the scar raised his hand. "That would be me. How's your arm?"

I raised the sleeve of my scrubs. It was kind of disgusting to look at, so I lowered the sleeve back over it. "I'll live. Someone want to give me the Sparknotes version of why I've been abducted again?"

"Come on."

Curious, I followed them, listening intently as Scarface explained everything. We were evidently four years in the future, and Scarface wanted us to stop something. People were flying, blurring past…evidently all courtesy of a shot that synthetically gives people powers. Scarface showed us a newspaper showing a huge mass murder in Sydney, and said that all these powers were going to destroy the world.

Scarface led us to a mural painted on the side of the building.

"Someone from your time is putting together a formula to give people abilities. You have to stop it."

"Why me, why can't you do it," Peter asked. "And what does Dorothy have to do with it?"

"I've made too many bad choices, stepped on too many butterflies. This has to be you. Dorothy is here because she's the only person Sylar trusts, and you need his ability. With his ability, you won't make the same mistakes."

I stepped back defensively as Peter turned to me incredulously. "You know Sylar?"

"She's his wife." This was news to me as well, but I crouched slightly, prepared to fight. No one was going to use me to hurt Gabriel. If Peter touched me, I would drop him like I'd done Flint.

But Peter just turned to look at Scarface angrily. "And you trust her," he snapped.

"With my life," Scarface countered without hesitation.

Shots rang out and Scarface fell into my arms. Startled, I looked up to see a brunette woman aiming a gun at us. "Claire?" I glanced at Peter in surprise and she lowered the gun slightly. But another heartbeat and it was aimed at us again, and I grabbed Peter's hand.

"Run!" We took off down the alley, and Peter took out someone with a trash can lid, but I didn't stop running to find out who. Claire was still shooting, bullets ricocheting off dumpsters and debris around us.

We ran full out down the street, immersing ourselves in the crowd of New York. Finally, satisfied no one was following, Peter yanked me into a store alcove.

"Are you hurt," I asked breathlessly, peering out to see if anyone was following.

"No, are you?"

"No." I straightened to look at him. "Where do we go from here?"

"We find Suresh," he said.

"Suresh?" I couldn't help raising my eyebrows in surprise.

"Yes." He grabbed my uninjured arm and tugged me along, back into the crowd. "You know him?"

"I helped him heal Molly Walker," I answered. "But I don't know where he is."

"I do." Peter set a fast clip. "You're married to Sylar?"

"No. Or, at least, not yet?"

"But you're dating him."

I thinned my lips. "You guys abducted me, remember? You don't get to judge me. Besides, future you seemed to like me, and if you can't trust your own judgment, whose can you trust?"

"He trusts future you. How do I know that the one next to me isn't going to try and kill me?"

"Because, Peter, you've managed to abduct me twice in the last two days, and you've been in physical contact with me for the last few minutes. If I wanted you dead, I could have done it with a thought." Startled, he released my arm, and I glanced at him as we walked. "As it is, I'm a healer. I don't hurt people unless in self-defense."

"Fine. What is Sylar's power, then?"

A memory flashed through my mind of Gabriel and I on the front porch swing in Georgia, and he was explaining his gift. "Intuitive aptitude. He instinctively understands how things work."

"That must be why I need to find him. So I can gain his ability and see all the variables."

Alarmed, I stopped him. "Peter, you can't!" He shrugged off my hand and kept walking. "Peter, please listen to me. Gabriel's power is what turned him into Sylar. If you take it, you'll get the hunger that comes with it."

"That's a risk I'll have to take," he said. I thinned my lips, but didn't say anything more, and for a while we walked in silence. Finally, we arrived at Isaac Mendez's loft. "Mohinder works here," I asked in confusion as we opened the door.

"Yes. Mohinder?"

The loft was in complete disarray. This didn't seem like the meticulous scientist I knew. "Peter, I think something's wrong. "

Movement caught the corner of my eye, and I instinctively took a step back at the shadowy figure.

"What do you want?" I could hear heavy breathing coming from him.

"We need your help," Peter said as he approached. "We need to find Sylar."

"Mohinder, are you ok," I asked in concern, taking a step towards him. He fled. "Please, maybe I can help."

"No. The last time you tried, you nearly killed yourself," came a rasping voice that sounded only barely like the Mohinder I'd worked with. I almost said that I hadn't healed him before, but then realized he must be talking about a future me.

"What happened to you," Peter asked.

Mohinder was now hiding behind stacks of books. "I wanted abilities. Impetuous…selfish. I got the formula wrong…so wrong."

"Let me help you," Peter entreated. "Tell me where Sylar is."

There was a momentary pause, and then Mohinder suddenly yelled, "Don't go!"

Confused, I turned to frown at Peter…

0o0o0o0


	12. Chapter 12

0o0o0o0

I blinked against the sudden glare of bright sunshine. One minute, Mohinder was yelling at us, then Peter had grabbed my arm, and now we were in the middle of yuppie suburbia.

"For once, can someone just _ask_ me if I'd like to go somewhere?" I threw my hands up in exasperation.

Peter released my hand to turn to the house we found ourselves in front of. I couldn't help but be impressed by the large, well-to-do home. Gabriel and I had evidently done well for ourselves in this strange future. Maybe we were even happy.

As I put my hand on the doorknob (assuming this was my house, this didn't count as trespassing, right?), I frowned at the blue flames leaping out of Peter's hands. "If I'm here, he'll help us. There's no need for that."

He frowned at me a moment, but finally doused the flames. Nodding my thanks, I opened the door and stepped inside. Peter followed me as I tentatively moved farther inside the house.

Movement caught our attention, and we saw a little boy come running up. "Hi, Uncle Peter. Dad's making waffles." Peter and I exchanged a startled look that only became more confused when the boy grabbed my hand and tugged me along.

"Daddy, Mommy's home!"

_Mommy?!_

Eyes wide from shock, I let the boy pull me into the kitchen where my gaze was fixed on Gabriel cooking breakfast in an apron that said 'Hail to the Chef!'

"What's up, champ? How you doin' man," Gabriel asked his son as he picked up the boy and set him on a stool. To my surprise, Gabriel leaned over the boy and kissed me on the mouth in a manner that spoke of habitual affection. I was so stunned that I let him. "What are you doing here? I thought you were at work."

I blinked at him, feeling rather like I'd just walked into the Twilight Zone on accident. "Peter's here," I said choked out hastily, throwing my companion under the bus in order to distract my…husband? Gabriel's eyes flicked to the man stood watching, just a few yards away.

Gabriel looked pleasantly surprised. "Peter, it's so good to see you," he said, striding over. "I haven't seen you in so long." As Gabriel pulled him in for an affectionate hug, Peter shot me a bewildered look, to which I just shrugged helplessly. I was just glad it wasn't my turn anymore. I didn't know how many more surprises I could take. "If you told me you were coming, I would have made extra."

When Gabriel practically pranced back into the kitchen with a chuckle, I sort of sank onto a stool, not trusting my legs to hold me up anymore. There was a beep from the microwave, and Gabriel pulled out a little jug of syrup. "What's the magic word?"

"Abbracadabra."

"Well, that's '_a'_ magic word, so it's close enough," he said, shooting me a wry look that clearly told me that this was something the kid had picked up from me, as he poured syrup over the waffle. Unbidden, my lips twitched into a smile.

"Where's your scar uncle Peter," the boy asked curiously, looking at Peter. Instantly, Peter and I stiffened and looked at Gabriel. I could see awareness flicker across Gabriel's face as his gaze flickered between the two of us.

"You know what? The grownups need to have a little chat in the other room, so I'm gonna get you started on your waffle," he said to his (our?) son as he cut it up a little. "Are you gonna be ok?"

The boy heaved a sigh as Gabriel handed him the fork. "Yes." I grinned slightly; if there was any doubt this kid shared my blood, it was gone now. I had frequently given that same sigh in our apartment in New York; how often must I do it here that my son had picked it up?

"Yes, I know you are," Gabriel said, his eyes holding Peter's. "We're just gonna be in the other room, alright?"

"I want to stay with…" My gaze flickered to Gabriel as he passed Peter. He read the question and wonder in my eyes.

"Noah," Gabriel replied gently, his eyes soft and understanding.

"Noah," I breathed, reaching out to stroke my son's cheek. Noah grinned at me and my heart melted into a little puddle as I smiled back. Just like that, I fell in love.

The door to the other room shut, leaving me alone with my son. I studied him as he ate. He looked like a miniature Gabriel. "You want some help with your waffle?"

He nodded and I stood. There were butterflies in my stomach as I picked him up and slid under him to perch him on my lap. Deftly, I cut the waffle into pieces for him, reveling in the feeling of holding my son in my arms. I handed him the fork and pressed a kiss to his hair.

"So, when's your birthday, Noah," I asked, hoping he would think his strange that his mother didn't know.

He took a deep breath. "January 17, 2008," he recited with the monotone of memorization.

I did the mental math. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…I would be pregnant in a matter of weeks. Good God. Hands shaking, I wrapped my arms tightly around Noah's warm little body and closed my eyes.

Curious, I went into my son and surprised even myself at how easy it was. There was a natural link there, like my power recognized that Noah was mine and wanted to be connected to him. It felt like a thousand threads formed between us in that instant, and I knew that I'd be able to feel him wherever he was.

I was floored by the sensation. Wondering at the instinctive bond, I searched him. Noah was in perfect health, though I expected no less. After all, he had a future Me looking after him. What surprised me was that Noah had a power. He hadn't manifested yet and I didn't know what his ability would be, but it was there.

I pulled back and pressed a kiss to my son's hair with a smile. I decided that, for all the problems in this future world, I liked it. I couldn't wait to be here. Gabriel was happy and we had a family.

"I wanna go play," Noah said, squirming in my arms. Smiling mischievously, I set him down, but kept a hand on him.

"You don't wanna play with your Momma? You know what that means, don't you?" Grinning widely, I started tickling him and he squealed with laughter. His giggling was infectious, and I started laughing with him as I blew a raspberry on his tummy.

"Aw, how sweet."

I looked up to see Claire, the brunette who had shot Scarface, walking towards us. Standing slowly, I protectively shoved Noah behind me. "Stay back," I warned as she approached.

"Get the boy away from her," the brunette said to someone behind me. I spun to see a blond woman and…good lord, Knox again…standing on the other side of the kitchen. I yanked a knife from the block just in time to swing it wildly as the woman became a blond blur.

The blade came into contact with something briefly, before a sucker punch to the stomach doubled me over and sent the knife clattering harmlessly into the corner. A knee to the face forced me to the floor and Noah cried out for Gabriel. Dazed, I pulled myself to my hands and knees to see Knox holding my son.

"Not now, Noah."

"Yes, now," the man said calmly. I shakily climbed to my feet as Gabriel and Peter came from the playroom.

"Noah, it's gonna be ok, buddy," Gabriel said.

My eyes went to the brunette as she stepped forward. "Let's not make this any harder than it already is, Peter. Just come quietly, and we'll leave them alone."

"Don't do it, Peter. Teleport out now," Gabriel countered.

"I'm not leaving. I brought this into your house."

"No, this was my house. You took everything from me," the brunette hissed.

"Claire," Gabriel started, "I never meant for you to—"

"Shut up," she snapped, leveling the gun at Noah. Claire smiled bitterly at Peter. "So what's it gonna be? The boy or you? You don't want anyone to get hurt, do you?"

"Just, first let the boy go," Peter cautiously requested.

"Not until your dead." There was hate in Claire's voice. I saw her attention was fully focused on Peter. Heart pounding, I took the chance I saw.

I lunged in front of Claire, knocking the gun away from Noah's direction as I grabbed her face. With just the briefest brush of my power, I knocked her unconscious. Instantly, Blond Blur tackled me painfully to the floor, but was thrown off by Brunette Blur (Peter, I assumed).

"Daddy!" Noah ran to Gabriel.

"Go hide, over there. Go now."

Noah ran to me. "Do you know the song Alphabet song," I asked as I quickly tucked him into the cabinet beneath the sink. He nodded. "I need you to cover your ears and hum it for me, ok? Don't come out for anyone but me or daddy." I waited until he nodded again before closing the cabinet door.

I straightened just in time to see Gabriel fly into the center island. The temptation to go make sure he was alright was strong, but I fought it knowing Gabriel could take care of himself.

My gaze locked on Claire as she climbed to her feet. I offered Gabriel a hand up, flooding him with diesel energy through the brief contact. "You got Knox?"

"I got him," he said grimly, stalking after the man.

Claire's gun had been kicked under the debris from the table. Claire coiled to run, and I yanked another knife from the block and carefully hurt hurled it.

My aim was as true as it had been the day Gabriel tried to hang himself; the blade buried itself to the hilt in her throat as she sprinted at me. "Thank you, Tommy," I muttered as she dropped like a rock.

I'd glimpsed her power briefly when I'd touched her before, and I knew that Miss Invincible wouldn't be out of commission long. I wasted no time in ransacking drawers, looking for anything that could restrain her.

"Duct tape?"

"Third drawer on the left," Gabriel called before leveling what sounded like a particularly brutal punch on Knox's face.

Snatching the tape up, I stalked to where Claire lay bleeding on the floor, unconscious. I rolled her over and pulled her hands behind her back, taping them together before wrapping a good amount above her elbows. I bent one of her legs back and securely attached one of her ankles to her bound wrists, hobbling her. She'd have to be either Houdini or the freakin' Hulk to get out of this.

The man Gabriel was fighting was now firmly pinned against the wall and looking a tad perturbed because of it. I rolled my eyes at the smirk on Gabriel's face as I passed him and touched the captive man, who instantly slumped over in unconsciousness. Gabriel released his telekinetic hold on him and let him fall to the floor.

As one, we moved to where Peter was still duking it out with the blond. She caught one look at us and sped out the door.

"Smart girl," I remarked.

"Given that she attacked my family, I must disagree," Gabriel commented. "Are you alright?"

I assumed he was talking to Peter, who was currently picking himself up off the floor. I held out my hand Peter, both offering a hand up and healing. "I'm fine," he insisted, taking my hand. I closed my eyes, but opened them again when I realized he was already healing. He shrugged at the look I gave him.

We passed Gabriel, who took my hand and pulled me to a stop. "Are you alright," he asked again, frowning.

I squeezed his hand. "Well, I don't have regenerative abilities, so my jaw hurts like a…well, it hurts," I said, amending my words. And in truth, my jaw was throbbing like an S.O.B. from its meet cute with Claire's fist. I rubbed it gently. "But I'll be fine."

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, holding me there for a moment. "Next time you step in front of a crazed woman brandishing a gun, I'm going to take you over my knee."

I pulled back and arched an eyebrow at him. "I'll try not to make a habit of it," I replied dryly.

"Where is Noah," he asked, releasing me.

"Beneath the sink. I'll get him."

I stepped out of the destroyed playroom and went to the cabinet. Noah was crying as he crawled out and flung his arms around my neck. "Mommy." I stood, still holding him, and pressed a kiss to his hair. Gabriel joined us, wrapping an arm around me as he stroked Noah's back soothingly. "Is he hurt?"

"He's just scared," I said knowingly. The bond between us was still strong, and I knew it was the truth. Still, Noah didn't need to deal with this right now, so I gently reached into my son's mind and sent him into a restful sleep. I opened my eyes and looked at Gabriel, not wanting to release Noah. "I have so many questions."

"Dorothy, we need to go. We got what we came for," Peter said.

I closed my eyes and buried my face in my son's neck, memorizing the feeling of him asleep in my arms. After a moment, I opened my eyes and looked at Gabriel. "Were we happy?"

Gabriel nodded silently, brushing my check with the back of his hand.

"I'll make sure we are happy again. I promise I'll find a way," I told him fiercely, but softly enough not to wake Noah. Gabriel kissed me gently but earnestly for a moment before pulling back and carefully taking our son from me.

I spared them one last lingering, longing look, and memorizing the sight, before abruptly turning and walking to Peter. Every cell in my body _screamed_ at me to return to the pair, but I knew that I couldn't. Peter put his hand on my shoulder with a look of apology…

I blinked when I realized I was suddenly in a cell. This teleporting thing was discombobulating in the extreme. Before I could quite get my bearings, Peter had Gabriel (wait, why was Gabriel in a cell now?) in a stranglehold against the wall.

"What the…"

"You have the hunger," Sylar realized around the hand on his throat. "You're just like me."

"I'll never let myself become like you," Peter snarled.

"You already are, _brother." _Sylar's taunt snapped Peter's control, and his scream echoed around the chamber as he snapped Sylar's neck. I cried out in surprise and horror as Gabriel crumpled to the floor.

"Peter, stop! You don't know what you're –" Angela Petrelli, who had come from nowhere into the room, suddenly halted in her tracks as Peter telekinetically halted her. I recognized her from the files I had read while working for Primatech. "You don't know what you're doing."

My mind was whirling, slow to catch up from the shock. _'You have the hunger'_ Gabriel had said. I watched as Peter kept his mother frozen.

"I know exactly what I'm doing," Peter hissed, advancing on her. "When were you going to tell me that Sylar's my brother? How many –" He stopped talking as I pressed a hand to his arm, the barest of contact, but it was enough to drop him. Peter crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Released from her psychic captivity, Angela ran and knelt by her son's side. I, however, had already pushed Peter from my mind as I rushed to where Gabriel had fallen.

"Holy shit," I breathed, shock stopping me dead in my tracks. Gabriel was already getting to his feet, his neck at a grotesque angle before he snapped it back into place.

As my previously dead lover climbed to his feet, my mind simply decided enough was enough. In one day, I had been kidnapped by homicidal maniacs bent on revenge, branded, kidnapped by time traveling doppelgangers, seen my future son and husband attacked by more homicidal maniacs bent on revenge, then teleported back to the present day to see my boyfriend murdered and then resurrected.

The world began to swim, and it was with a somewhat apologetic tone that I said, "Really, this shouldn't surprise me," and fainted.

0o0o0o0o0o

When I woke, I was alone. I was clearly in some sort of hospital room, one run by the company by the looks of it. The events of the past day were slow to come back, like my mind preferred to regard it as a particularly long and badly thought out dream. Grimacing, I tried to assess my current situation. I was in a hospital gown (backless by the feel of it. Fantastic) and a large bandage covered my branded arm.

An IV dripping – I squinted to read the label without my glasses – Oxacillin was attached to my arm, making me raise an eyebrow; it was a very powerful antibiotic. Suspecting what I would find, I pried the bandage back gently, grimacing and reattaching the tape after a brief inspection. Oxacillin via IV and generous amounts of Silvadene on the burn confirmed my suspicions: not only had that idiot Flint branded me, but he'd given me blood poisoning in the process.

I started when Angela Petrelli entered my room. We regarded each other for a moment in wary silence, sizing each other up. "You, Miss DuValier, have proven to be quite a nuisance."

I arched a brow. "I assure you, Mrs. Petrelli, that the feeling is mutual."

"You are Sylar's lover," she said, watching me. I stiffened. "I'm curious as to what kind of woman stays with a man like him. I'm even more curious as to what kind of woman gets a man like him to stay with her."

Refusing to be intimidated by this woman, I simply leaned back and studied her curiously. So this was the person running The Company. Maybe I could get information out of her.

"What do you want," I asked finally. There was no malice in my voice, only curiosity.

"I want you," she said simply. "I have Gabriel, but he needs you to focus him."

If there was anything Gabriel had taught me, it was not to show your enemy your emotions, so I kept my face blank. "So you're telling me that you've managed to not only capture and presumably incapacitate a man as powerful as Sylar, but also got him to work for you to capture Level 5 escapees. But yet you need _my_ help?"

She shifted imperceptibly. "Gabriel only willingly went to stop Knox when informed that you were in their possession. However, Gabriel is my son and as such, I need to see to his happiness."

I almost rolled my eyes at that crap. I didn't know if she was his mother or not, but I _could _hazard a guess that his happiness was about as high on her list of priorities as mine was. Instead of saying so, however, I simply raised an unimpressed and disbelieving eyebrow.

Her lips thinned almost imperceptibly. "Sylar is a very complicated man, and very volatile. If he thinks we're holding you against your will, he'll turn on us. So yes, I'm giving you a choice. I want Gabriel, and he wants you."

I nearly smiled. The second she had said she had Gabriel, I knew I would stay willingly. But now, I had something to barter with. "My cooperation must be pretty important if you're going to all this trouble. I'd say it's probably important enough to exchange information for."

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you want to know?"

"Elle Bishop."

She raised her chin. "She is no longer employed at the company. You will have access to all the information you need, Dr. DuValier. Do I have your cooperation?"

I smiled dryly. "I suppose you do."

"While you're here, we will expect you to use your abilities, of course," said Mrs. Petrelli.

"Is that so." I didn't bother trying to sound surprised.

"You're ability to heal is unparalleled, Dr. DuValier." That got my attention. The ability to heal was fairly rare, but by no means unique. I'd read the files of three such individuals myself. "Oh yes. There are a few people who can heal others, two of whom even founded this company thirty years ago, but they were not even close to your caliber."

I eyed her doubtfully. "What do you mean?"

"You really have no idea how powerful you are." She shook her head. "You've only scratched the surface of your abilities."

0o0o0o0o0oo0

3 days later, I drummed my fingers against the chair arm. According to my watch, I'd been waiting in this depressing little room for over an hour now. As soon as I was given the all clear to resume whatever work I had been blackmailed into, I had been told that I would be subjected to testing. In my opinion, if Mrs. Petrelli wanted to test the extent of my abilities so desperately, she could have at least picked a proctor who would be on time.

I wasn't even sure how you tested someone's ability to heal. It couldn't be good. I would give these people 'morally gray' at best, though I usually tended towards 'morally bankrupt.'

At last the door opened and a man in a white lab coat entered. I stood and shook his hand.

"I'm Dr. Adam Dzinski."

"Dorothy DuValier."

"Mrs. Petrelli seems to think you have a rather impressive ability to heal, and wants me to test your limits," he said.

"I'm not sure how one would go about testing that," I said, smiling as best I could.

"Well, we want to see how long you can go continuously, and how much contact with the patient you need, or if you need contact at all. We're also interested in seeing if your ability is strictly healing or if it's more along the lines of body manipulation."

I didn't blink. This was nothing that I hadn't expected. "You want to know if I can torture someone."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, if you insist on putting it in the blackest terms possible."

"Dr. Dzinski, when it comes to this company, it's always in the blackest terms possible."


	13. Chapter 13

0o0o0o0o00o0o

Gabriel and I had been in this facility for two weeks now.

They had tested my abilities as far as they could go. I had been surprised both with my own power, and with the extent of the company's cruelty.

I found I no longer needed to concentrate as hard, unless I was doing delicate work. My stamina had increased to five hours, and I found that I had an exceptional ability to heal…or hurt.

Their 'testing' on my ability to continuously heal was on a teenage boy whose abilities they were also trying to assess. They had tortured him to find the extent of his ability to absorb and release electrical energy, using pain as a motivator to push him past his limits.

As a man moved forward to hurt the kid again when he couldn't perform anymore, I'd snapped and, in my anger, had grabbed him and triggered every pain receptor in his brain, causing him unimaginable agony before I stopped his heart as he had crumpled to the floor. When agents burst into the room, my senses returned and I immediately healed him, but the line had been crossed.

I'd seen a genuine smile on Angela Petrelli's face as she'd watched through the mirror, and in that instant, I'd known why they had kept hunting me for so long.

Unlike the other healers, who could cure any malady with the briefest touch, my power was truly unique. I didn't just heal the body, I controlled it. I could torture people, or force their own bodies to betray them. I could make them sick, kill enemies with diseases that I made their own bodies create, and no one would ever know otherwise.

Since then, though, I'd been put to work in the medical wing, ostensibly to give me time to cool off. I was now working with doctors and nurses who clearly neither liked nor trust me. There was no chatting with this strange new woman, and watchful, suspicious eyes followed me wherever I went. Conversations halted when I entered a room, and I was spoken to only when absolutely necessary. It was as if everyone expected me to go on an impromptu killing spree.

My sister's death and my own inability to attend her funeral were weighing heavily on me. Small things reminded me of her, resulting in pain so sharp I was surprised it wasn't tangible. I wasn't given time to mourn her or to properly respect her death. Every few seconds, I would remember that she was gone, and I would feel the now familiar sinking feeling of fresh grief, like missing a step on a staircase, or tipping your chair too far back.

Finding that I needed to express my grief, I bought scrubs in traditional mourning black and wore them every day. It was pathetic and a little childish, but I'd been raised to respect the dead, and it made me feel a little better to pay her this small form of homage. If people took issue with me breaking uniform, no one was brave enough to confront me about it.

I needed Gabriel, but they had been keeping us apart, which made the pain that much worse.

He and I had seen each other only once, and it had been on accident. I'd been reading a patient chart as I walked back from lunch, not really paying attention to where I was going. I'd actually walked into him, not realizing who it was until I glanced up to apologize.

The apology died on my lips as we stared at each other.

I kept having flashbacks to seeing him holding our son, but I forced the images from my head. Gabriel was clean shaven again and in a suit, and I was taken by how handsome and powerful it made him look. I suddenly felt frumpy in my black scrubs and sneakers. At least I'd bothered to do my hair and put on makeup that morning.

"How are you," he asked. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were concerned.

I started to say that I was fine, but the lie wouldn't come out. "I'm breathing."

Our exchange had brought the attention of his partner, Noah freakin' Bennet. I almost snarled when I recognized him, but settled for shooting him a distrustful glance and looking back at Gabriel. "You look good in a suit." I wanted to tell him about our son and what I'd seen of the future, but not here. Not in front of Bennet.

Gabriel opened his mouth to say something, but my pager went off, breaking the spell.

"'911'. I have to go," I said apologetically. I spared him one last longing, lingering glance.

On impulse, I took his hand and squeezed it gently, silently prodding his body to release endorphins and dopamine; a subtle, chemical equivalent to giving him a giant bear hug. Before he could blink, I had already released his hand and was taking off at a run to the next emergency.

The entire exchange had probably lasted less than fifteen seconds, but it was all the contact I'd had with him in the past two weeks. At least he looked healthy and wasn't in shackles or something. He was ok.

My pager went off again, startling me out of my reverie. I checked it to see that Angela friggin' Petrelli was summoning me. I grit my teeth. No matter what my feelings towards her were, she was the one with the power, I reminded myself. Pissing her off wouldn't solve anything.

I opened the door to her office with a fake smile. "Mrs. Petrelli, it's good to see you again," I lied politely as I approached her and shook her hand, silently gathering as much information from the contact as I could.

"And you, Miss DuValier," she nodded, standing from behind her desk. "The reports say you're power has increased exponentially."

"And I'm only getting stronger," I added. She could read into that what she chose to.

"Aren't you going to ask why I've summoned you," she asked.

"If there's one thing I've learned here, it's not to ask questions, because you more than likely don't want to know the answer."

"Gabriel has become quite the asset to the company."

"I'm sure you're thrilled with your progress," I said impassively.

"My son needed to be molded," she said simply. "You and I are the only people with the power to do that."

"Well, no one knows him like I do," I replied. I met her eyes. "Except maybe his mother…which you are not."

"I'm not sure what you mean," she replied carefully.

I thinned my lips. "Bodies speak to me, Mrs. Petrelli. And though our mouths may say many things, the body doesn't lie. Having children leaves indelible marks on the body, and you've only had two."

"And what do you plan on doing with this information, dear," she asked, her tone telling me she wasn't surprised in the least.

"Nothing. I can't even see him, now can I? Besides," I added with a little smile, "it's your choice if you want to keep kicking the dog until he turns on you completely."

0o0o0o0o0o

"I'm seriously starting to hate this thing," I muttered as I checked my pager. Seeing it was another 911, I took off towards the medical wing, reflecting dryly that I was seriously getting my cardio in. This was ridiculous. I wasn't even sure actual hospitals had this many emergencies.

I strode into the room Angela Petrelli's room. For some reason, she'd listed me as her primary physician, which meant I was the one who'd gotten the 911.

"What happened," I asked the nurse as I put on gloves.

"Maid said she wouldn't wake up this morning."

Angela's eyes were open, but glazed and clearly unresponsive. I put my hand on her forehead and assessed her physical state. Finding nothing, I closed my eyes to focus harder and go deeper, slower.

After several minutes of inspection, I frowned and opened my eyes. Other than stress, her body was fine. There was no medical reason for her to be unconscious like this.

I calmed her body and closed her eyes, but that was as much as I could do. I sighed and stepped back. "I've only seen this once before, and it has nothing to do with the body. Monitoring her vitals is all we can do."

I stepped out of the room so the nurses could begin their work, and ran a hand through my hair. Someone had put Angela into a coma, trapping her consciousness somewhere away from her body. My mind flit to Maury Parkman, who'd put Molly in the same state. I shook my head slightly. That guy was like a bad penny.

"Where can I find Dr. Dorothy DuValier?"

I heard my name and looked up to see a nurse pointing a suited man over to me. "I'm Dr. DuValier. May I help you," I asked as I shook his hand.

"Yes. I work for a company called Pinehearst. We understand that you have an unusual ability to heal."

I eyed him warily. "That depends on why he's asking."

"A man is dying and science is failing him. I do not know more than that. I'm not paid to ask questions," he said simply.

I crossed my arms, unimpressed. "And if I say no?"

"Then I have been authorized to offer you this," he said, handing me a folder. I opened it, scanning its contents incredulously. "That is to get you to the facility. Should you succeed in healing your patient, you will receive the other half."

"This is a _lot_ of money." I barely managed to not to outright guffaw as I stared at the cash. I looked up at him.

"I have also been instructed to tell you that we have something you want more than the money, should that not be enough to convince you."

"And what would that be," I asked warily.

"Elle Bishop," he said simply, staring at me impassively.

I closed my eyes as a fresh wave of pain flooded me, and with it, the need for revenge. When I opened my eyes, I felt cold and hard inside. "Let's make the arrangements."

0o0o0o0o0o0

For the first time in months, I found myself stressing about what to wear. I knew my scrubs wouldn't work, as I needed to project a powerful and professional veneer when I entered Pinhearst. I needed to look like I wasn't easily bullied. At the same time, I needed to look friendly and non-threatening to the nurses and staff whose help might need. Not scaring my patient was an added bonus.

In the end, I picked a pencil skirt, pumps, and a button down to hide my tattoos. Surely that would give the right impression? I even went to the trouble to do my hair and makeup. It was strange not to wear scrubs under my lab coat, but I felt more powerful and in control than I had in a long time.

I felt like I was walking into a nest of vipers, watching like a hawk for any sign of foul play. They sent a car to pick me up. When I arrived, I was escorted to a lab where I was told my patient would appear shortly.

It occurred to me as I waited that this was the first time since this whole mess started that someone had actually _asked_ me to come and work for them, instead of simply reverting to abduction and coercion.

I explored the lab as I waited. "Well, they certainly don't skimp here," I muttered as I took in the high quality coffees.

I was stirring my coffee and wondering where to go next when I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I looked back to see an old friend smiling down at me. "Well, fancy seeing you here, handsome," I said, grinning as I turned to hug him. "This world is getting smaller by the minute."

"It certainly seems that way," Mohinder agreed, squeezing me briefly before stepping back. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to heal someone, which I suspect is you. What about you? I thought you were in New York with Molly and Matt."

"I'm working for Pinehearst on a new formula that synthetically gives people powers. I can't believe you're the one they sent to me," he said, pouring himself coffee. I frowned as I caught sight of his neck and grabbed his shoulder, memory of my trip to the future striking me like a bolt of lightning. If future Mohinder had been correct, I couldn't fix this, but I knew I had to try.

"Mohinder, what happened," I asked in concern. "Are those…scales?"

He shifted uneasily. "I injected myself with a prototype of the formula, but it was unstable. That's why I'm working with Pinehearst."

I looked at him with concern, my heart aching for the fear that must be consuming him. I hugged him fiercely. "Let's sit down. I'm not promising I can do anything, but I want to try, if you'll let me. Let me look."

He nodded and led me to two stools. As soon as we were seated and comfortable, I took his hand and closed my eyes, knowing I needed to focus.

I wasn't sure what was in the formula, but he was right when he said it was unstable. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to how his body was changing, and it wasn't handling it well. The changes were affecting his internal organs, and beginning to affect his lungs. He must have been in agony.

I stopped his pain and felt him instantly relax. I opened my eyes to see him grinning widely at me in relief. "The pain is gone. What did you do?"

"I dampened the pain receptors in your brain," I explained, squeezing his hand and leaning back. "I have good news and bad news. I can't cure you, but I _can _temporarily reverse the changes that have already occurred. That should buy you a little time at least."

He smiled at me. "Thank you, my friend."

I flapped my hand dismissively at his thanks. "This is going to take a while. But first…I need to talk to you." I looked him dead in the eye. "Mohinder, Peter Petrelli brought me to the future, one where you had completed the formula. Not only were you…still this way," I said carefully, "but everyone had abilities and were misusing them."

He eyed me. "And you don't want me to continue my research."

"No matter what your answer is, I will help you as much as I can with your…condition. But yes, I'm asking you not to continue."

He grimaced and shook his head. "I wish I could stop, but I'm trying to find a way to fix this. The formula is the only thing that can save me."

I sighed and nodded. "Very well. I can't make you do anything." I took a deep breath and dropped the topic, forcing myself to smile at Mohinder. "Do you have some music? It helps me focus for the more delicate work."

A few minutes later, the room was filled with song and Mohinder was lying on a patient bed while I sat beside him, holding his hand. I was absorbed in my work.

Knowing it would make him feel better, I fixed his skin first before moving to his internal organs. That was a bit more complicated, but not so much as the effects on his brain. The poor man must have been going out of his mind. Many areas seemed hyper-stimulated. It required a delicate touch and was the most time consuming.

It was two hours before I finally pulled myself out of my meditation. I stood and stretched to loosen muscles tight from too long without movement, drawing Mohinder's attention. "Finished?"

"Yep. How do you feel," I asked.

"Wonderful. Better than I have in weeks." He sounded downright cheerful, which made me smile.

"Reactions like that make having this power worth it," I said as he stood. I rubbed the back of my aching neck, trying to work out the kinks.

Mohinder noticed as I winced in pain. "Here, let me."

It felt strange to have someone else sweep my long hair over my shoulder, but I quickly relaxed as large, warm hands began to massage my neck and shoulders. As my muscles relaxed, I became puddy in his hands. "Good Lord, I think I just fell in love with you," I joked with a groan.

He laughed. "It's the least I can do, considering what you just did for me." I leaned my head back against his shoulder with a quiet sigh of pleasure as he worked the tension from my shoulders. His hands were large and warm on my small neck, his scent uniquely masculine.

I could feel his warm breath on my skin as he spoke quietly. "In all this madness recently, I forgot that people can still be kind just for the sake of being kind. You are an exceptional woman…" he hesitated, "…and very beautiful."

I turned my head to look at him as his hands stilled on my neck. His warm eyes caught mine and I was suddenly hyper aware of how close we were. His gaze dropped to my lips and I shivered under his hands.

A heartbeat passed…and I turned my head away, standing abruptly. "I'm sorry, Mohinder. I…am a bundle of trouble that you don't want any part of." I looked at him sadly. "You're a good man. You don't deserve to be caught up in the kind of mess that my life's turning into."

I didn't wait for him to speak before striding out of the room. As I quickly walked down the hallway, I tried to shake off what had happened. Part of me wanted to forget Gabriel and go back to Mohinder. The doctor was certainly a less complex man, the path clearly easier.

Yet 'easy' didn't mean 'right', and I could still hear my mother's warning to stay with Gabriel. And if I were really honest, I was only entertaining the idea out of loneliness. Mohinder was a very handsome and kind man, but my heart still belonged to Gabriel. My place was at his side, and I knew I would follow him to whatever end.

"Dorothy DuValier." My name echoed through the hallway and I turned to see a young woman standing down the hallway to my left.

I frowned. "May I help you?"

"I'm Mr. Petrelli's assistant. He asked me to show you to his office."

Warily, I followed her to an opulent office where we were met by a well dressed older man. His assistant let me in and closed the door behind me to give us privacy. I studied the man before me.

"May I help you, sir," I asked politely.

"As a matter of fact, you can. My name is Arthur Petrelli." He must have seen recognition flit across my face. "Yes, Angela's husband."

"Angela's a widow."

"That is a very long and involved story, dear. Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing to one of the chairs. I perched myself awkwardly on the edge of the seat, unable to shake the feeling of danger I had.

"It seems we still have some unfinished business, Doctor," he said as he took a seat behind his desk. "You helped my top scientist, and I promised you the woman who killed your mother." He picked up a folder from the desk and handed it to me.

I hesitated before I took it and opened it. Inside, there was a picture of a pretty blond young woman only a little younger than myself. "Elle Bishop," I read. "Electrical manipulation." My hand tightened on the folder as I found her report on the incident with my sister.

As I read, I couldn't stop imagining it from Rose's perspective. Knowing from our mother that I had been taken from Jason's farm. My sister coming to the door to see two suited strangers. Asking what they wanted. Finding out they knew about her daughter's power. Refusing their offer. Fearing for her own life as Elle Bishop displayed her power. Pulling out the shotgun, firing. An arc of electricity shooting from Elle to my sister, killing her. My treacherous mind recited what happened to the body when it encountered a powerful electrical current.

I closed the file with a snap, blinking back tears. Rose had never been a violent woman. If she had brought out a gun, she had been in fear for her life. I studied the picture, memorizing every detail of Elle Bishop's face. "She's mine," I said coldly. "I want to kill her myself."

"And so you shall," he said, "if you begin working with this company. We can use someone like you."

I stood abruptly, still holding the file. "That wasn't our deal. I healed Dr. Suresh, now give me the woman."

"Why don't you and I order dinner," he suggested, walking out from behind his desk. "It's after 8. You must be hungry and we have things to discuss."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Fine." I'd listen to whatever pitch he wanted to make, and then refuse.

We ate dinner and talked about his plans for the formula Mohinder was making. I kept my opinions to myself. Even when he told me that Gabriel was his son, I didn't say anything. While I knew for a fact that he wasn't, I didn't feel the need to call him out on it. It just didn't seem productive.

Dinner had been cleared away and Arthur was drawing. It had been fascinating to watch at first, when his eyes went white and he began drawing furiously, but it had quickly become boring. I stood by the window, staring out into the night, lost in my own thoughts.

Killing Elle would be difficult, if not impossible. I had been raised that honor was more valuable than life, and honor dictated that I face her on equal ground. Yet I needed to touch her to kill her, whereas she didn't have the same limitation.

I bowed my head, wondering if I should do it at all. Taking her life wouldn't return my sister, and killing was unfamiliar territory for me. In the past, I had only ever committed mercy killings; saving people from far worse fates at the hands of the company. Yet, honor dictated that I make her pay, and my own sense of injustice was screaming for her blood. I was just going in circles.

Pulling myself from my thoughts, I walked aimlessly out into the hall. I didn't have a particular destination, but I felt like I needed to move. As I watched, three strangers rounded the corner, followed by…

"Gabriel," I exclaimed incredulously. He looked just as startled to see me, but recovered first and pulled me into his arms, kissing me hard.

"What are you doing here," he asked, pulling back without releasing me.

"I had to heal someone," I started, but trailed off as movement behind his shoulder caught my eye.

Elle Bishop was watching us with a perplexed frown. My inner battle vanished.

Gabriel had seen my body coil, prepared to spring, and caught me as I lunged for her with a feral snarl. I fought ferociously to get out of his arms, but they were like steel bands around me. Elle had crouched defensively, electricity arching between her fingertips.

"Who the fuck are you," she snapped.

"Rose Henderson was my sister," I snarled. "Remember her? You came into her home and electrocuted her."

"Yeah, I remember her. She pulled a shotgun on me," she retorted defensively.

"Shut up," Gabriel growled at her. I had stilled in his arms and he looked down at me. "It was her?"

"Yes," I hissed. "It's in the file, including her report."

He hesitated and when his eyes met mine, they were as cold as I felt. "You're no killer, Dorothy." He turned to Elle. "I am." With a flick of his finger, he hurled her against the wall and pinned her there, raising his other hand to kill her.

"No, Gabriel, her debt is to me," I said, looking at her. He lowered his hand, but kept her pinned against the wall.

"You deserve a death like the one you gave her. One of pain and fear and fighting for your life," I said as I approached her. Her eyes, the only part of her that could still move, looked down at me in fear, and my resolve weakened.

I placed my hand on hers, wanting to cause her agony, but in the end, I didn't have it in me. Instead of setting her nerve endings on fire like I so badly desired, I simply sent her to sleep. She slumped over instantly. Gabriel released her and her body fell to the floor.

"Lucky for you, I'm a weaker person than you deserve," I whispered, staring at her. It felt like something inside me had died.

I looked up to see Gabriel watching me, expressionless. He extended his hand to me. I spared Elle one last glance before squaring my shoulders and stepping over it to take his hand.

The others had stopped and been watching us, and followed now as I led them to Arthur Petrelli's office.

He was still drawing, but came out of the trance as we entered. We looked at the eclipse he had drawn.

"It's coming."


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: This and the next few chapters will jump around a bit as the main OC doesn't have the Third Person Omnicient POV that anyone watching the show will have. Keep that in mind as you read it. **

0o00o0o0o0o0o0o

I stared out the window, head bowed slightly as I lost myself in my thoughts. Since I had given up retribution on Elle, my grief had become even worse. The circumstances of the past few months threatened to overwhelm me without vengeance to focus and spur me on.

Gabriel and I were usually together. It wasn't a conscious action, at least not for me. We just seemed to gravitate towards each other, as if we needed to be reassured of the other's safety after months of being apart in fear.

He was two men, as different as night and day: the one the world saw, and the man he was with me. When we were with others, he was Sylar: cold, unyielding, dangerous, and ferociously protective of me. But when we found ourselves alone, he was just Gabriel Gray, the man I loved, and lately, the _only_ person who I was never afraid would hurt me.

When someone brushed my hair back over my shoulder, I closed my eyes and leaned my cheek into his palm, knowing it was him without looking. I opened my eyes as he ran his thumb over my cheek, softening as I looked up at him. He was wearing a suit again, much to my pleasure, and looking at me with such gentleness that it melted my heart.

Only he could weaken me with a look.

"What has you so worried," I asked softly.

"What makes you think I am?"

I arched an eyebrow at him. "I know you better than you think I do."

His hand dropped from my cheek to his side. "Arthur has asked me to go after the Catalyst." I just watched him, waiting for him to continue. He grimaced slightly. "I can't look after you when we're apart."

Knowing cameras would be watching us, I sighed and stepped into his arms so I could whisper and not be overheard by prying ears. "Don't you ever get tired of being played against each other? When we are apart, they can control us like dogs."

He stiffened slightly, but whispered back. "You know something." It wasn't a question.

"We can't speak here, but your lady has been resourceful." I felt him smile against my cheek. "Take me with you to get the Catalyst, and I will tell you everything I've found out."

"They won't let you go easily. They know that if they have one of us, they have control over the other."

"The only thing they fear more than you, is losing you. Use that."

I started to pull back, but he wrapped his hand on my neck and pulled me back, kissing me. His tongue plundered my mouth, dominating me. My hands drifted to his shoulders, his to my hips to hold me to him.

As if I would have tried to get away.

It was all I could do to stay standing as he slanted his mouth over mine again and again. I moaned softly and melted against him, losing myself in the scent and feel of him as he took what he wanted. What had always been his.

The door opened and Gabriel raised his head, but didn't release his hold on me. Embarrassed at being caught making out like teenagers, I leaned my forehead on his shoulder while I tried to calm my racing heart.

"Can we help you," Sylar growled at the intruder.

I nearly groaned when I recognized Arthur Petrelli's voice. "Are you ready to go? Your partner is waiting."

I stepped back and looked at Arthur. "There's been a change of plans. I'm going with him."

He didn't look surprised. "I'm not sure that's wise," he said.

I smiled brightly at him. "I checked on my patient this morning and he's fine. You don't need me here for the time being."

"I'm afraid that's simply not possible, Miss DuValier," he insisted.

"I insist," Gabriel interjected, the dangerous look on his face belying his calm tone. It brooked no argument.

Arthur looked at him for a second, weighing his options. "Very well," he relented, inclining his head.

It occurred to me that if he gave in that easily, he must either think Sylar was firmly under his thumb or we were playing into one of Arthur's schemes. I mentally shook off the thought, knowing there was nothing I could do.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

A while later, Gabriel and I were in a rented car on our way to where he thought Claire would be.

"Do you think we can speak freely here," I asked from the passenger seat as I crossed my legs, the only semi-comfortable position I could find in a pencil skirt. Gabriel glanced at me and nodded. I took a deep breath, wondering how to broach the subject. "I'm not sure how to delicately lead into this, so I'll just say it. Angela and Arthur Petrelli aren't your parents. I know this for a fact."

His grip tightened on the steering wheel. "How?"

I tried not to fiddle with the edge of my skirt. "I treated Angela while I was at Primatech, and I know for a fact that Angela has only ever had two children. When I confronted her about it, she didn't deny it." I hesitated before continuing. "They're manipulating you, Gabriel. Primatech tried to make you their boy scout, and Pinehearst is trying to make you their own leashed dog."

He didn't say anything, but his face hardened.

"I also…" I cleared my throat awkwardly, "I also read your file. Virginia and Martin Gray aren't your parents either."

He finally looked at me. "Do you know who my real parents are?"

"No, but we can find out," I said, putting my hand on his arm. "We don't have to work for them anymore. We can go away and start a new life somewhere else, just a writer and a watchmaker. Or we can go find out who your real parents are."

"And if I decide to stay?" It was a clear challenge.

"Then I will stay, too," I said firmly. I lowered my voice seriously, "Gabriel Gray, I will follow you to whatever end."

He shook his head. "Why? I'm a murderer, Dorothy! I'm not the man you think I am."

I actually laughed at that, causing him to look at me like I was crazy. "Didn't you hear where I read your file? I know exactly what you've done and how you did it. As I said before, I know you better than you think I do. Sylar isn't the man you want to be, but neither is Andy Hardy." His lip twitched in amusement and I smiled at him. "You're still finding out who you are, but I already know. I've always known."

He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "Would you still have loved me if I were a watchmaker? If I had stayed a nobody?"

I laughed. "Gabriel, I started falling for you when I still thought that's all you were."

0o0o0o0

Gabriel had been silent for a long time as we drove, ostensibly listening to the radio, but I knew him better than that. He was brooding. Besides, the current radio DJ was crap.

We had driven long enough that I knew we weren't on our way to find Claire. I was glad of that. Sylar's file wasn't the only one I'd seen, and that poor girl had been through enough. Deciding that we wouldn't be stopping anytime soon, I kicked off my black pumps and put my bare feet on the dashboard.

My skirt road up higher on my legs than was probably ladylike, but the sun felt so good on my legs that I couldn't bring myself to care as I bobbed my head in time to the music. From the corner of my sunglasses, I caught Gabriel checking out my legs and couldn't suppress a smirk.

"Lime green?"

I blinked, not knowing what he was talking about. "Oh, my toenails," I realized with a smile. "Yeah, I have a thing for bright colors."

"I see that," he remarked dryly, but the corner of his mouth was slightly turned up in amusement.

I grinned back and gave a blasé shrug. "It's ok. I know you're jealous. I would be, too. Besides, I know you were just checking out my legs," I teased.

His mouth curved into a full blown smirk. "And if I was?"

"Then you should return the favor. You know, I have a thing for men in suits," I said, dramatically waggling my eyebrows at him.

He laughed. "I'll make sure to stop somewhere and give you a striptease."

"Where are we going, anyway," I asked curiously.

"We're hunting down Martin Gray."

The man who had run out on his wife and adoptive son.

I laced my fingers through Gabriel's, not saying anything.

0o0o0o0o0

After driving for several hours, we stopped at a roadside diner for a late lunch. I climbed out of the car and indulged in a lavish stretch, my feet giving a twinge of complaint at the combination of stilettos and gravel parking lots.

"Gabriel, look at that," I called to the other side of the car, my attention caught by the sky. He followed my gaze as the moon began to pass over the sun. "It's the eclipse." He frowned.

Pushing my sunglasses to my hair as we walked to the diner door, I naturally reached for Gabriel's hand. It was an offhand gesture that I didn't really think about until suddenly I started rubbing my ear, feeling like I had gone deaf. Startled, my gaze instinctively flickered to our hands, trying to figure out what was wrong. Something was missing, something that I'd never noticed before, but I didn't know what it was.

"What's wrong?"

I glanced up to see Gabriel frowning down at me as I kept rubbing my ear. "I…I'm not sure. It feels like I've gone deaf or something…" even as I said the words, it clicked. "I can't sense you," I breathed, horrified.

His frown deepened. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I can't feel you at all," I said in alarm as I grabbed his other hand and tried to get inside him. "It's like being deaf. There's nothing." My panicked eyes flew to his to see him staring at me unblinking, the cogs turning in his head. He looked up and I watched as he flicked his fingers at a trash can. Nothing happened.

We shared a grim look before he put a hand on the small of my back and led me to the diner, opening the door for me before taking me to a booth.

"Do you think it's permanent," I asked softly after a moment, still unconsciously rubbing my ear.

"I hope so," he said. Surprised, I looked at him curiously. "It's a relief, honestly. Ever since I got these powers, I've been consumed with this…._hunger_. It's been a long time since I've felt like Gabriel Gray."

As I studied him, I realized it was true. Though Gabriel had never been a particularly effusive man, those dark eyes were lighter than I had ever seen them. The shadows were still there, but now there was hope, too.

I grinned at him, eager to keep this happy train of thought. "We could start over somewhere where no one knows us."

"We could get married, start a family, be just a writer and a watchmaker," he said, smiling at me.

Feeling happier and more relaxed than I had in a long time, I smiled back widely. I hadn't realized what a responsibility my power had been until it was gone. The sense of deafness was irritating, but I figured I'd get used to it. The waitress came over, and Gabriel quickly gave her our order while I rubbed my ears. It was a lack of mental sound, but I couldn't help rubbing my ears.

"You really do know me well," I commented with a pleased grin as I realized he'd ordered me a vegetarian lunch. I tended to stay away from meat as I didn't like the taste or texture, though I'd never mentioned it to him.

"I do pay attention occasionally," he said dryly.

"Gabriel, I…I have something to tell you," I said hesitantly. "Do you remember when I appeared in your cell with Peter Petrelli?" Gabriel nodded. "We went to the future. We saw…I saw what could be waiting for us, and it's so wonderful." I hesitated again, but then told him everything I'd seen with Peter, including our son.

Eventually, the waitress arrived with our food, and the conversation shifted to what new lives we could lead. As we ate, we joked about what kind of lives we could lead. It had been so long since either of us had a lighthearted conversation that we were almost giddy. We lightheartedly debated sons versus daughters, dogs versus cats, urban versus rural life. In our imagined life, we ended up with a dog, a cat, 4 kids, and a llama. Tears of laughter were threatening to fall by the time the waitress came and took our plates.

He threw his arm around my shoulders as we walked out of the diner. I had opened the car door when I realized that he had stopped and was staring at me with a peculiar light in his eyes. I looked at him with a questioning smile.

"Let's do it," he said suddenly, making me raise an eyebrow at him. "Let's elope. We've been given a second chance, a do over, and I don't want to waste a second of it. Marry me."

My smile was blinding.

0o0o0o0o0o0

I woke up tucked into his side, my head on his shoulder and his arm thrown possessively around me. I smiled and burrowed closer, not wanting to get up just yet. His arm tightened around me in his sleep.

I opened my eyes and looked at him. When he slept, he looked like a completely different man, so peaceful. My gaze fell to his left hand around my waist, smiling as I took in our wedding rings. Both were silver, but his was a thick, masculine band, whereas mine was a delicate ring of intricately woven silver.

We bought silver rings at a local shop, and my wedding dress was a pretty twenty dollar white sundress that I'd spotted in a store window. The ceremony itself was just at a small hole-in-the-wall chapel and took less than fifteen minutes.

It wasn't magical, our families weren't there, and it wasn't even close to the wedding of my dreams. Yet it was filled with hope for the future, and Gabriel gave me his last name.

It felt strange to have a ring on that finger after 26 years, but wonderful and right at the same time.

Belly fluttering happily, I kissed his cheek gently before carefully slipping out of his arms and into the shower.

When my makeup and hair were done, I came out of the bathroom in a towel to see Gabriel holding a file from my purse. I recognized the file as Sue Landers, the woman who could tell when someone was lying.

"What is this," he asked suspiciously. I was taken aback at first, but remembered that he had become accustomed to only being betrayed.

"It's something I ran across when I was working at Primatech. I thought you might have need of it someday, so I made a copy and kept it with me, just in case. Now that our powers don't work, it's irrelevant."

He relaxed and pulled me to him, hugging me from behind as he sighed into my hair and kissed me when I turned my head. "Our powers work."

I stiffened. Tentatively, I put my hand on his bare arm. Sure enough, I could see through my gift again. I closed my eyes and leaned back against him. "Talk about bittersweet." I sighed. "Let's find out about your parents, see if we can get some answers, and then we can worry about the future."

He gave my butt a playful smack before turning to the shower. I turned on the news and put my wedding dress into my purse and changed back into my business clothes, wishing desperately for a washing machine. I was slipping on my heels when I heard something on the TV that caught my attention.

I was standing in front of the TV when Gabriel opened the bathroom door. I clucked my tongue in appreciation. "I doubt I will ever get tired of seeing you in a suit," I said, watching as he adjusted his tie.

He smirked. "I doubt I'll ever get tired of seeing you naked." I grinned at him before turning my attention back to the TV. "What are you watching?"

I nodded to the TV as he came out of the bathroom. "Primatech and Pinehearst both burnt to the ground."

"What happened?"

"The Primatech fire is due to 'unknown sources', but it looks like a bomb went off." I tapped the remote against my lips thoughtfully. "I'd bet money it was a patient of mine. He had the ability to create energy from nothing. He'd run off to New York, but had been recaptured and brought back. He was incredibly unstable, so we usually kept him sedated."

"Ted Sprague?"

I looked at my husband with an eyebrow raised in surprise. "You know him?"

"I know _of_ him."

I shook my head. "They're calling it a laboratory accident at Pinehearst, but Mohinder is too careful to let something like that happen," I said thoughtfully.

"Dr. Mohinder Suresh?"

"This world is getting smaller and smaller," I said incredulously. "You know him, too?"

"I met Mohinder the day I killed Zane Tayler. How do you know him?"

I shrugged. "I was recruited to help him save a little girl from the Shanti Virus, and then to heal him when he injected himself with an unstable formula." I narrowed my eyes at the screen. "You know, he mentioned that he was working on a formula that would synthetically induce powers. Someone must not have wanted him to finish."

"Either way, it means they won't be coming after us for a while," he said, slipping on his suit jacket. "If you're ready, we should go."

"I'll check us out if you'll bring the car around," I said as I grabbed my purse and headed to the door. As I opened it, he grabbed me and kissed me.

"So you're not regretting getting married now that our powers are back," I asked, smiling up at him.

He tucked my hair behind my ear. "There are many things I regret in this life, Dorothy, but you will never be one of them."

I kissed him, smiling against his lips, before we parted ways.

0o0o0o0oo0

The next morning, I woke up alone. I sat up, a knot in my stomach as I glanced around our current hotel room. Though his clothes were still there, there was no note from Gabriel and his side of the bed was cold, implying that he'd been gone for some time.

"He probably just went out to get breakfast or something," I reassured myself, twisting my wedding ring. I stopped when I realized what I was doing. Married for less than two days, and I was already forming a nervous habit, I thought dryly.

I took a shower and got dressed, still unable to shake my unease. So many bad things had happened this past year that it my mind turned first to the worst case scenario.

When he walked through the door, I relaxed instantly. "You know, with all the bad stuff that keeps happening to us, it's become instinct to assume the worst," I said dryly, smiling at him. My worrying seemed silly now that I knew he was fine. He kissed my head as he moved past me to the table. "I see you picked up breakfast," I said, taking in the food he placed on the table. I watched him curiously as we sat down to eat. We had made it to Baltimore and would finally talk to Martin Gray today, the man who abandoned his wife and adopted son. That had to eat at a man.

"How are you," I asked at last. He'd been silent throughout the meal.

"I'm fine," he said shortly. I bit my lip, wondering what had happened. Having been raised with so many older brothers, I knew better than to push. If he wanted to talk, he would.

An hour later, we pulled up to a building. Martin Gray's shop was inside. "Do you want me to go with you," I asked, "or would you rather do this alone?"

He stared at the building for a moment. "Come with me. You help me keep a level head." I didn't hesitate.

Music was playing as we entered and I looked around curiously at the shop. Gabriel picked up a watch and began to tinker with it. A shotgun pumped and we looked up to see an old man standing in the doorway.

"You move and I shoot," he warned. "Damn thief." I glanced between the two men, but remained silent. This was Gabriel's ballgame, not mine. "Think you can come into my shop without me hearin' ya?"

"Martin," my husband said, setting down the watch. He looked the man dead in the eye. "Martin Gray."

"Do I know you," the man asked warily.

"Did you live at 423 Kenmoor Street, Queens 27 years ago?" Gabriel's voice was level. "It was snowing. Middle of February and you went out for a pack of cigarettes at 10 o'clock and never came back," he said, looking around the shop. He turned back to Martin. "Or so the story goes. Kind of cliché, don't you think?"

The man lowered his gun, but didn't set it aside. "Who are you?"

"I'm your son… And I have some questions for you."

"She your girlfriend," he asked, nodding to me.

"I'm his wife, sir," I confirmed, slipping back into old habits and my accent thickening in my anxiety.

"Pretty girl," he said, setting the gun aside, "southern from the sounds of it. Probably sweet, too. You shouldn't be caught up in this."

"You don't speak to her," Gabriel said lowly.

Martin didn't say anything for a moment. "I'm a very different person now. It was a long time ago."

"Maybe for you." Gabriel's voice was level, but I knew him well enough to read the emotion behind it.

Martin sat down behind his desk. "You said you have questions? Well, ask 'em."

Gabriel slowly walked to the desk. His voice was measured when he spoke, his words chosen carefully. "How does a boy without a father grow up to be a man? How does he learn to make the hard decisions he's going to have to make in life, the ones only a man can teach?" My heart was breaking for him as I began to understand what he had been through, was still going through.

"You want an apology, is that it? You want to hear 'I'm sorry for walking out on you and your mother'."

"I just want the truth."

"What about 'your mother was a sick, infantile woman'?" He set down the things he'd been working on and came out from behind the desk. "Or that I made a mistake ever to have a child with her?"

Gabriel's eyes widened strangely. "Let's start there because I'm sure as hell not the son of a man who repairs watches and a woman who collects snow globes." The older man froze. "So who am I?" Martin turned and looked at him. "Tell me," Gabriel demanded sharply.

With a resigned sigh, Martin sat behind his desk and regarded Gabriel. A heartbeat passed. "You were given to me."

Gabriel wasn't fazed. "By whom," he asked curiously.

"By a man who needed money," Martin answered honestly. "Your mother wanted a baby and couldn't have one, and I wanted out of a loveless marriage and was too much of a coward." Gabriel came and sat down across from him and I stood by his side. "Seemed like the right answer at the time."

"Who was he," my husband asked, his voice dangerously low.

Martin looked down. "My brother."

"Is he still alive," Gabriel asked. He looked a little shell shocked. Martin grabbed a pen and paper, Gabriel watching him with inscrutable eyes. Martin handed him the paper. "You're telling the truth."

I frowned slightly. There was something peculiar about his tone, about the certainty behind it. Realization dawned and I closed my eyes in denial.

That was where he'd been this morning. He'd gone after Sue Landers.

"Now please leave," Martin said, turning on his desk lamp.

Gabriel stood and I dropped my eyes in disappointment at how this had gone. In my peripheral vision, I saw his fingers flex and I grabbed his hand firmly.

Our eyes met, his dark with barely suppressed anger, mine warm with understanding. He spared Martin one last glance before turning and heading to the door.

I lingered for a moment. "He became a great man. You would have been proud of him," I said quietly, so that Gabriel wouldn't hear.

We left.

I stopped him as we came to the car. "Gabriel?"

He turned and waited for me to catch up, his eyes cold and distant. I didn't know what to say, so I kissed him. When I pulled back, he leaned his forehead against mine.

"You are twice the man he ever was," I said fiercely.

He blinked at me. "You really believe that."

"I do," I said, smiling sadly at him. "Did you kill her?"

He pulled away and studied me for a moment. "No, I didn't. I copied her power while she was sleeping."

Relief and pride flooded me. I kissed him again, deeper this time, before releasing him. "Do you want to go see your father today or wait?"

He pulled the address from his pocket. "I don't think it's far," he said. "I'd rather go see him now, but I don't want you to come with me."

For a moment, I was hurt, but then I tamped it down. This had nothing to do with me. I nodded carefully after a moment. "We need some supplies anyway. Why don't you drop me off somewhere and pick me up again when you're done?"

He kissed me again, something I could never grow tired of. "Thank you, Dorothy."


	15. Chapter 15

0o0o0o0o0o0

Gabriel dropped me off at a shopping mall with a list of supplies to pick up while he went and confronted his father. I pulled as much money as I could from several ATMs, knowing we would probably need to subsist on cash for a while, though I used my card to go shopping.

We both needed clothes, since the only thing we had currently were the ones we were wearing and my wedding dress. I got us each a few changes of comfortable clothes and a few incidentals we needed, unsure of where we would be going. If we needed anything else, we could buy it then.

In a restroom, I changed out of my sweltering and dirty business clothes into a light cotton shirt and skirt, instantly feeling better once I was in cool, clean clothes.

On impulse, I also bought a large pocket knife. I didn't foresee needing to use it so long as I was with Gabriel. There were some definite perks about being married to one of the most powerful men in the world, but I figured it was better to have it, just in case.

And then, I sat and waited.

I grabbed dinner at a small eatery.

And then, I waited some more.

Finally, I bought a book and became absorbed in it. When I looked up again, night had fallen, and I officially became worried.

"He'd better be learning the secrets of life, or else I'm gonna kill him," I muttered, checking my phone for the ten thousandth time. Still no messages or calls, and he hadn't returned any of mine. "Speak of the devil and his imps appear," I said, spotting Gabriel pull up.

Wearing clothes I didn't recognize.

In a car I didn't recognize.

With a kid I didn't recognize.

With each new discovery, my eyebrows rose a little higher. By the time my gaze met my husband's, I was surprised they were still attached to my face.

"Dude, your girlfriend's fuckin' hot," the kid exclaimed. I shot my husband an amused look.

"She's my wife," he said gruffly to the kid as I threw the stuff in the trunk. The kid moved to the back and I took my seat beside Gabriel, who immediately pulled away from the curb.

I stared at Gabriel with a patient look that clearly said 'you have some serious explaining to do and I suggest you start right now'.

"Your husband's a bamf," the kid said from the back seat.

"Of that, I'm aware," I said dryly, shooting him an amused look.

"Oh, and listen to that accent," the kid groaned. "You lucky son of a bitch."

I looked at him in disbelief before turning to Gabriel. "Honey, what's with Ferris Bueller?" I glanced at the kid in the back seat. "And watch your language, kid."

"Hey, I'm not a kid."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Can you vote?" His hesitation answered me. "Then the comment stands. Gabriel?"

"I was attacked at the house by a group of armed masked men."

I sucked in a breath. "Pinehearst?"

He shook his head. "Government. I took one of the men to a house down the street for questioning and Luke came home with his mother at an inopportune moment. The kid said he knows where to find Samson."

"So you decided to bring him along for the ride?"

"He won't tell me the address," he growled, shooting him a look in the rearview.

I rubbed my forehead. "Why is the government after us? The Company made it a point to keep them from knowing about people with abilities."

"I don't know, but I walked into a trap. They knew I had abilities and were prepared for it."

"Well, this is somewhat less than ideal. What's the plan now?"

"Drive west," Luke answered. "I'll give you directions from there."

I studied my husband carefully. He had clearly been through an ordeal, and there was a lot he wasn't telling me. Was he Sylar or Gabriel at this moment? The hard look in his eyes answered the question.

Gabriel changed into the more comfortable clothes I'd bought him when we stopped for gas. I took over driving so he could get some sleep, and Luke sat up front with me.

"So, I thought his name was Sylar," the kid asked, voice low so that he didn't wake my husband.

I sighed. "Sylar is…a part of him. He doesn't have multiple personalities or anything like that, but Sylar is the man who kills people, who does what needs to be done. Gabriel is…" I floundered for the appropriate words. "Gabriel is Gabriel."

"Why did you marry him? I mean, the guy's a serial killer."

"And you're wondering what kind of woman loves a serial killer," I surmised with a dry smile. Luke shrugged. "When we first started dating, he was much different than he is now. Just a watchmaker who lived next door. He was and still is the most amazing person I've ever met. He's powerful, though, and other people want that, want to use him. Sylar is the product of what other people have made him become. In the time I have known him, he's only killed when he felt he had to."

"You're not afraid of him," Luke asked curiously.

I laughed quietly. "The irony is, I've never felt safer than when I'm with Gabriel, despite all the trials we've been through."

Luke looked doubtful but didn't say anything. I smiled at him. "Did you ever find out what my power is?" He shook his head. "I'm a healer. Before I got wrapped up in this mess, I was just a writer from a small town in Georgia that no one's heard of."

"What happened?"

I sighed as I remembered all that had happened since I'd been that girl. "I'd never hurt anyone before. But then people wanted to control my power, and they hunted me down to get it. They forced me to do things to people…" I trailed off, lost in the memory of helping torture that teenage boy over and over.

I cleared my throat. "I found that I could use my power to torture people, to kill them. And then, when I wouldn't do it anymore, they murdered my sister in her own home." I looked at Luke. "They made me who I am today, just like they made Sylar."

"Have you ever killed someone," he asked.

I eyed him, but didn't answer. "Why are you here, Luke?"

He was silent for a moment. "Sylar understands me. He understands the things that no one else does. I wanted to stay with him."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I didn't say anything at all.

"Do you ever regret marrying him?"

I had to think about that one. "Well, we've only been married a short time. But since I've met him…there are times where I wish I didn't have to make such hard decisions, or that I could just have a simple life. But those moments always pass. I don't regret marrying him, and I'd make the same choice if I had to do it over again."

"Marriage just doesn't seem worth it," he commented, staring out the window.

I laughed quietly. "Now we're getting into deep territory." I shook my head with a smile. "All relationships are hard, even the ones that aren't romantic. But they're worth it, if only for those moments when someone gets you the way that no one else does."

He studied me. "And you have that with him?"

"Yes, and I like to think he has it with me. We really haven't known each other that long, but I've reached a point with Gabriel that I can guess what he's thinking just by looking in his eyes. Those are the moments that make everything worth it."

0o0o0o0o0

I woke up to my husband shaking me awake. "We're getting food."

I sat up and stretched, then followed the boys out of the car. I was instantly grateful for the light skirt and tank top I wore when I was assaulted by the summer heat.

"Thanks," I said, smiling at Gabriel when he held the door to the diner open for me. "I'll be right back. I want to go freshen up a bit."

I headed to the bathroom as the boys took seats at the counter. I put my long hair into a ponytail and splashed water on the back of my neck, trying to wake up. A noise made me look up.

Panic flooded me as black-garbed men flooded the room. I screamed as loud as I could, trying to warn Sylar, trying to call for help, but my cry was cut off as they shot me and I dropped like a stone.

0o0o0o0o0

To my surprise and relief, I woke up in the car with Gabriel. Though the car smelled unfamiliar, I could tell by the weird choice of music that I was with Gabriel.

"I'm getting really tired of getting kidnapped," I groaned as I straightened up.

Gabriel looked amused. "How do you feel?"

I rubbed my face tiredly. "Like I've been tazed and kidnapped…again," I said dryly. "I have a massive headache."

"That's the second time in a week that they've caught up to me," he said grimly.

"It's times like these I really wish I could heal myself," I mused, head pounding. "Thanks for coming back for me."

Gabriel glanced at me. "You're my wife. I also managed to get their computer."

I glanced around until I saw it. "Impressive toy you acquired there." Luke was still unconscious in the back seat, so I reached back to make sure he was alright.

"So, with Sylar-In-Training unconscious, how do you know where you're going?" I grinned as Gabriel gave me a long suffering look at my nickname for Luke.

"He gave me the address," Gabriel said. Assured that Luke was fine, I settled back in my seat and smiled knowingly at Gabriel. He gave me that exasperated look that he reserved just for me, "Don't give me that look. I came back for you and the computer. He just happened to be there."

"Mmmhmm," I placated. I kept smiling at him.

He rolled his eyes and changed the subject. "Well, we've lost all our money and supplies."

My smile widened. "You're seriously lucky you married me." He looked over curiously as I proceeded to pull wads of cash out of my bra and boots.

"You should have been a boy scout," Luke said from the back seat as he sat up.

"I tried, but they just told me I had penis envy," I retorted deadpan.

0o0o0o0o0

In the front seats, the boys were arguing…again…and I was ignoring them…again… choosing instead to focus on the radio. Gabriel had telekinetically shoved Luke against the window, and I just rolled my eyes. I had long since stopped getting alarmed whenever they bickered about something. They reminded me of a darker version of my brothers.

I did finally start paying attention when Gabriel swerved and pulled into a long abandoned diner. The place was completely boarded up.

"What the hell," Luke exclaimed, prompting me to smack him lightly on the back of his head. He rubbed his head and glowered at me as we climbed out of the truck. "There's a burger place up the road if you're hungry."

Gabriel telekinetically began ripping off the boards on the diner windows. Much to my amusement, they went flying at Luke and he had to dodge them.

Gabriel was silent as we entered the abandoned, dust filled diner.

"So what are we looking for," Luke asked in an exaggerated whisper.

"Something happened here," Gabriel said more to himself than to Luke.

"Yeah, like a million years ago," Luke commented as we walked through the building. Curiously, I examined the room, listening to them.

"I've been here before," Gabriel realized quietly.

"How do you know?"

"I remember," Gabriel said, staring at a corner of the room. By the tone of his voice, I knew it wasn't a pleasant memory. "My father was here, too."

"Are you sure?"

He was silent for a moment before glancing sharply at a corner and telekinetically flinging off a panel. Slowly, he reached inside and pulled out a racecar. "Positive." He was frowning, fingering the toy. "Something terrible happened here."

"What are you talking about? It's a toy car, what's the big deal," Luke said, sounding bored.

I frowned at his callousness. "Luke, since you can't think of anything productive to say, you will wait outside," I said sharply, channeling my mother. Scowling at me, he obeyed. I waited until the door was closed behind him before stepping up to Gabriel, squeezing his arm. "Talk to me."

"My father did something to me, something I forgot," he said, frowning. He was concentrating, losing himself in memory for several minutes. "Mommy."

Heart breaking at the small voice that came out of my powerful husband, I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck. After a moment, he returned the hug and buried his face in my neck and hair, the only outward sign that he needed comfort.

Into my neck, he told me everything that he had remembered. About being sold, about running after his father, about seeing his mother killed and thrown out of the car. Though I felt silly at crying, I couldn't help the tears that came when I thought about the little boy he had been. In that moment, I hated his father with every fiber of my being, which was still nothing compared to how Gabriel must feel.

"Oh, Gabriel," I breathed, stroking his hair, wanting to comfort him. "What do you need?"

"You." He pulled back and kissed me hard. I was surprised at his roughness, but my own need to comfort him overcame my shock and I started to kiss him just as passionately. Not breaking the kiss, he pulled me into a back room, away from the windows, and lifted me onto a dusty old table.

His kiss became frantic as he pushed my legs apart and stood between them, sliding his hand under my skirt. Surprised, I started to pull away, but he held me against him tightly and started fingering me.

I squirmed, torn between pleasure and confusion, but my inhibitions vanished when he bit my shoulder, simultaneously sliding a finger deep inside me. I nearly came off the table, bucking against him as I felt my underwear begin to dampen.

"I need you. Now. Here. Please," he whispered against my lips as he tore off my underwear. I responded by burying my fingers in his hair, kissing him back just as hard, knowing that he need to feel wanted, loved, reassured, and needed. When his pants were undone, I don't know, but suddenly I felt him hesitating at my entrance, silently asking permission.

I buried my face in his neck. "I want you, Gabriel Gray," I whispered. He kissed me hard and, in one thrust, buried himself deep inside me, taking my soft cry of pleasure into his mouth.

Pleasure pooled in my belly as he pumped in and out of me, stoking the growing fire. He would pull almost completely out of me, then thrust back in, stretching and filling and pleasuring me.

My soft whimpers of pleasure began to fill the air around us, the sensations building until I shattered around him, whispering his name into his ear. He continued until at last he joined me in ecstasy, coming with his face in my shoulder as he throbbed inside me.

For a moment, we were quiet, only the sound of our panting filling the room. Still buried inside me, he clung to me, holding me tightly against him, as though he were afraid I would vanish. We stayed that way for several minutes until he pulled back enough to rest his forehead against mine.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he breathed.

I kissed him sweetly and brushed his hair back from his forehead, looking him in the eye. "I love you, Gabriel Gray. Do you hear me? You have my love."

He kissed me gently and pulled out of me. We cleaned up as best we could, though I realized with a sense of dismay that my panties were completely shredded. When I pointed this out, Gabriel looked smug, making me roll my eyes at men in general.

When we were presentable, we headed back out to the dining area. Gabriel kissed my hair gently before releasing me to go get Luke.

We stayed there for several hours, much to Luke's irritation. As time passed, I watched my husband retreat farther and farther into himself, into Sylar, as he tried to make sense of the memories that plagued him.

"So what, we're just going to stay here all day?" Luke was frustrated. He was also an idiot. "Look the guy's an ass, plain and simple. Alright, I told you, parents su-"

Sylar snapped and threw a chair, causing Luke to stop short. "He killed my mother," Sylar growled.

Luke sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I've been trying to tell you that he's a jerk and that –"

Sylar slammed his hand down on the table, his eyes dangerous as he looked at Luke. "You've been trying to tell me, really? Cause all I can remember are cute little stories of you two bird watching around the neighborhood. You made him sound like Mister _freakin_' Rogers."

Luke seemed to realize, finally, who he was dealing with. "I was waiting for the right ti—"

With a flick of his arm, Sylar hurled him to the wall and pinned him there. Knowing that this could quickly escalate, I placed a hand on my husband's outstretched arm. Sylar looked at me for a moment, then back at Luke, still pinned to the wall.

"Hey, I got an idea –"

I cut him off, "Luke, shut up." Sylar released him and he fell to the floor. I looked at him in mild disgust at how stupid he had been, trying to use a serial killer for a joy ride. "Go home to your mother," I said, throwing a small wad of cash at him.

Luke's voice stopped us as we reached the door. "You're not going to kill me?"

Sylar raised an eyebrow at him. "Seems a little on the nose."

I already had the truck started as Gabriel climbed into the passenger seat. We were silent for a while. "You're not going to try and convince me not to kill my father," he asked at last.

I kept my gaze on the road. "I probably should," I admitted, "but no, I'm not. Your father… needs to be put down. I would do it myself if you asked."

0o0o0o0o0

We rented a hotel room close to his father's address, both of us wanting a night in a real bed after sleeping in the car for several days. I could tell he was still a little emotional, though it showed only in his eyes.

Throughout the night, I would wake up to Gabriel kissing me, stroking me, caressing me, and we would make love all over again. Sometimes it was soft and tender, other times it was carnal and passionate. The gray light of morning was coming through the windows by the time we fell into real sleep in each other's arms.

The next morning, I was pulled out of a deep sleep to a fully dressed Gabriel standing over me, tucking hair behind my ear. Stuck in that hazy state between dreaming and consciousness, it didn't register that he was leaving, only that this was pleasant. Gently, he pressed a lingering kiss to my temple before standing. I had already fallen back to sleep as his weight left the bed.

Several hours later, when I actually woke up, I instantly knew he wasn't there. "At least he left a note this time," I grumbled as I picked up the paper lying on his pillow. He'd left alone to go see his father. Sighing, I tossed it back on the bed and went to take my first real shower in days.

As the water ran through my hair, I tried to think of where we went from there. What do we do now? For the first time in a long time, there was no clear objective, but neither was there a day-to-day. No one was blackmailing us into service. But neither could we try to start normal lives, not while the government was after us.

I shook my head and turned off the water, deciding to worry about it when Gabriel got back. After quickly getting dressed, I opened the door to the bathroom.

Insanely, it wasn't fear that registered as the black-garbed men surrounded me. Instead, it was sharp irritation that I was going to be kidnapped _yet again_.

"Oh, why don't you just shoot me already," I snapped when the men just stood there with their guns pointed at me.

"Because I want you to know exactly why this is happening," came a voice from the back. A shorter man stepped forward, white haired and balding.

"And why is that," I asked, raising an eyebrow in challenge. I refused to be intimidated by this man.

"Because you people took away the woman I cared about," he said. "So I'm returning the favor."

The darts hit me, and I fell back, unconscious.

0o0o0o0

I came awake with a start, seeing Mohinder Suresh of all people standing over me.

"Whaa…"

"Dorothy, you have to get out. Help me release the other prisoners," he said, cutting me off. Feeling drugged and weak, I sat up and looked around the unfamiliar room. To my horror, I was one of many people laying on stretchers, sedated and hooked up to machines.

Adrenalin rushed through me, burning the rest of the drugs from my mind, along with the grogginess. Quickly, I began to pull the tubes from the prisoner's noses.

"What happened? Where are we," I asked to the room at large as I worked.

"We are rescuing you," responded a chipper Japanese man, bowing. "I am Hiro Nakamura."

"Dorothy," I said, nodding to him as I continued working.

Some of these people had clearly been here for a while, making me wonder how long I had been unconscious. At last, though, everyone was staggering out the doors and I began to follow them.

We wove our way through the building, but I stopped when I saw my picture on a board next to dozens of others. I pulled my picture off, realizing with bewilderment that it was a recent one, taken when I'd been with my family in Georgia.

Looking around, I spotted a file with my name on it. Beneath it was Gabriel's file. Knowing I didn't have time to stand there and read it, I grabbed them and ran after the people fleeing the building.

Outside was pure chaos. No one knew what had happened to them or where to go from here. Everyone was running, unsure of where to go or what to do or who to trust. I wasn't in a much better state, full of adrenalin and confusion and fear. Panicking and not knowing what else to do, just that I had to get away, I ran.

I ran until I couldn't run anymore. Panting, I rounded a corner into an alley and stopped beside a dumpster, hidden from view.

I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, trying to calm myself. "Ok, Dorothy, calm down. Take stock. What's the first step?"

I took a deep breath and forced myself to think. I was still wearing the jeans and t-shirt I'd had on when I was kidnapped, but I had no money, no ID, no phone, and wasn't even sure what the date was or my current location. I wished desperately wished for Gabriel, or even to feel safe enough that I could start crying, but I had to stay strong.

"Hold it together, Dorothy Jean. Just stay strong," I snarled to myself. I shook myself forcibly and walked to a diner across the street.

"Excuse me," I said to a waitress. She smiled at me and set down her coffee pot. "What's today's date?"

"July 8th," she said, cocking her head to the side. I closed my eyes, realizing I'd been unconscious for weeks. I was getting really sick and _fucking_ tired of getting kidnapped.

I shook my head and smiled to reassure her. "Do you have a phone I could use," I asked sweetly.

When she handed me the phone, I called the only person I could think of.

"Hello?"

Hearing his voice disintegrated my resolve, and my voice broke when I spoke. "Daddy?"


	16. Chapter 16

I stared at the wall. I hadn't gotten out of my bed in two days, not since reading the file I'd taken from the facility where I and the others had been kept unconscious. Not since finding out….I sighed. I was cried out.

"Little bit?" I heard my father gently open the door to my room.

"Morning, Daddy," I greeted with a sad smile as he sat on the bed and kissed me on the temple.

"I'm worried about you, Dorothy Jean. What happened? You've never been so…" he struggled to find the words, "_broken._"

I closed my eyes. I didn't want to talk about it, to make any of it real. But my father was owed an explanation for everything that had happened.

I curled up, bringing my knees to my chest. "Oh, Daddy, you didn't teach me how to deal with things like this." I turned my head to look at him as he began to rub my back.

"Start at the beginning, Dorothy Jean," he instructed. I smiled. He had always said the same thing, in that exact same tone, since I was 8.

I took a deep breath. "Do you know why Gabriel and I left so abruptly?"

He looked me dead in the eye. "Jason came and told me everything. He said you were taken by government agents because of him."

I shook my head. "They didn't work for the government. They worked for a company called Primatech that handles people like me. We're not sure what they did to Gabriel, but he woke up in Mexico without his powers. Me, they sent to work as a doctor, patching up the people they tortured, or the agents hurt in the field. I didn't know where Gabriel was, or even if he was still alive. They threatened you guys, so I did what they wanted." I leaned back and ran a hand through my hair. My father stayed silent, listening.

"One night, Gabriel appeared in my apartment and we ran away. Rose died because of me, Daddy. Whether she was killed to get back at me when I stepped out of line, or because she wouldn't let them have Charlotte, I don't know."

"They found us again in California and blackmailed us into working for them again. They made him an agent, and me…they realized how powerful I was, and how my ability can be…warped. They….they made me do terrible things, horrible things. They taught me how to hurt and kill with my power." I took a deep breath. "Eventually, Gabriel and I found each other again and we ran away again. Do you remember the eclipse?" He nodded. "We found our powers wouldn't work anymore, and thought we'd been given a second chance to start a new life, so we took it. We got married. Our powers came back, and we went to find out who his real parents were."

I rubbed my eyes tiredly. "We found out that the government was hunting people like us, people with abilities. They caught me in a diner once, but Gabriel saved me. The next time they caught up with us, I was alone. The next thing I remember was waking up on a gurney, pumped full of drugs to keep me sedated, along with _dozens_ of other people. We escaped, and that's when I called you."

My father knew me well enough to know that I wasn't finished, and stayed silent. My gaze drifted to the window, to the fields of cotton that surrounded the house. "When we were escaping, I came across files on Gabriel and me." I took a shuddering breath, fingering my wedding band. "They told him I was dead, Daddy. That Nathan Petrelli killed me. And then they killed my husband."

When my father wrapped his arms around me, I began to cry again. I had thought that I had no more tears left in me, but my composure vanished and the floodgates opened again. What started as a trickle soon dissolved into a flood and I wept bitterly into my father's shoulder.

He held me until I calmed down and my tears dried. I sat back and he wiped a tear from my cheek. "Your sister's death wasn't your fault, Little bit." He brushed hair from my face. "Now, I know you want to stay in bed and sleep, but you can't. DuValier's don't give up and we don't back down. You're going to get out of this bed, take a shower, brush your teeth, and get dressed. Then you're going to start your life over."

I sniffed pathetically, but nodded. He was right. My life wasn't over, even if it seemed like it was at this moment.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

I visited my sister's grave, but it didn't help me. I didn't feel anything as I looked at her tombstone. As she'd said so often about our grandmother's grave, "she isn't there, Dorothy. If you had the chance to fly around the world, or talk with Einstein, you wouldn't hang around a depressing cemetery either."

They gave me back my old job at the stable, and life returned to the way it was before I'd ever left for New York. Everything was the same…but nothing was. People looked at me differently, and their sympathetic looks chafed. I walked down the street and their curious gazes burned into my skin. Conversations ground to a halt when I walked into a room.

They didn't know what had happened, I made sure of that. All they knew was that Gabriel and I had vanished seemingly overnight, my sister had been murdered, I hadn't come for the funeral, and now I returned with a wedding band and no husband. I wore mourning black, my smiles were faked, and, according to Momma, I seemed harder.

I was learning the painful lesson that you can't ever really go home.

I was suffocating.

0o0o0o0o0o0

I leaned against the sink during a quiet afternoon at the office. Now that Rose was gone, I had been offered a chance to work in her place. I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

Say it.

"I'm a wi…"

It's just a word.

I cleared my throat and forced myself to try again. "I'm a widow. I am a widow."

Now say it and realize it's true.

"I am a…" the words stuck in my throat.

Say it and mean it.

"I am a wid…" the words wouldn't come out.

I was saved another try when the door to the office opened in the next room. I took a deep breath and quickly made sure I looked presentable. Squaring my shoulders, I went to see who needed help.

Before now, my first instinct upon seeing Gabriel's old partner would have been to bolt. Now though, I had nothing left to lose, so I walked forward and shook his hand. "Mr. Bennet," I said with a small inclination of my head.

"Miss Hobbs," he greeted. "Or, should I say, Mrs. Gray."

I didn't bat an eyelash. "They still call me by my maiden name around here, Mr. Bennet. Old habits and all that."

I glanced to the man with him, and Noah followed my gaze. "This is Peter Petrelli."

A spark of anger ignited at last. "Angela and Arthur's younger son," I said, staring at him. His family had blacklisted me into service multiple times and killed my husband. "I'm well acquainted with your parents."

"I'm not overly fond of them, either," he said dryly. I just nodded stiffly, though some of the tension drained from my shoulders.

"We have a favor to ask you. I know we have no right to ask you," Noah added quickly when I raised a challenging eyebrow. "A friend of ours has a brain tumor. He's dying."

"And why should I help you, after all that you people have done to me and my family," I asked sharply.

"Because Hiro's a good man. He's saved many lives," Peter retorted. "Let's go, Noah. She's not going to help."

"Wait," I said as he turned away. "Hiro Nakamura?"

He turned back. "Yes. You know him?"

I sighed. "Yes, I know him. He saved my life."

"I just need to shake your hand. I copy powers. You don't even have to leave…" he trailed off as I shook my head.

"It's not as simple as copying my power. You have to know how to use it or you could kill yourself, a lesson I learned the hard way. I'll come with you. Let me get my purse."

0o0o0o0

With a hand on my arm, Peter transported us to the hospital, to Hiro's room.

Which was empty.

"He must have wandered off," Peter said, releasing me. I followed him out of the room.

He was stopped by a woman. "Hiro's gone," she said, "he vanished."

"Damn it," he cursed. Checking his watch, he sighed and took out pen, paper, and keys from his pocket. "I have to go to work," he said, scribbling down something before handing it to me. "This is my apartment. Wait for me there."

"No, I'll stay here for a while," I said, pocketing the note. He looked at me in question. "I rarely get to do good with my abilities, Peter. I'm going to the children's ward."

Smiling a little, he shook my hand, holding on a little longer than necessary. "You're a good woman, Dorothy."

I smiled a little and we parted ways. I made my way to the rec room of the children's ward.

"Hi," I said, squatting down next to a little bald girl. She couldn't have been older than five or six, and I could tell from her hairless face that she was a chemo patient. "My name is Dorothy." She looked up at me warily, but continued playing with her legos. "Can I shake your hand?"

She cocked her head to the side but held out her hand. Taking it, I worked quickly, sensing that she had a brain tumor. Dampening her pain receptors, I made quick work of the tumor. She smiled broadly at me as the pain vanished.

"Are you an angel," she asked curiously.

I shook my head. "No. I'm a healer. But don't tell anyone, ok?" I held my finger up to my lips in the universal sign for silence.

I made my way through the children's cancer ward, no one sparing me a second glance, allowing me to work in peace.

After a few hours, I tried to find my way out of the labyrinth hospital, but succeeded only in finding my way to the trauma center. To my surprise, it was in complete chaos. Spotting Peter, I made my way over. He was sitting in a corner, shoulders slumped in fatigue.

"I know that look of exhaustion. You copied my power, didn't you," I asked suspiciously.

He looked up in surprise before running a tired hand through his hair. "There's too many of them. I can't save them all."

I looked at him sympathetically. "There's a reason why I didn't want you to copy my power, Peter. You will _literally_ kill yourself if you don't know what you're doing."

"So teach me," he burst out in frustration.

I glanced around at all the trauma patients, and made a decision. I pulled him out of the flow of traffic. "Listen closely. Do you have medical training?"

Peter nodded. "I was a nurse."

"Excellent," I sighed in relief. "Ok, tip number one: focus. If you just blast them with energy, you're going to waste most of it on cuts and bruises. Find out what's wrong, and do the bare minimum to stabilize them. Anything else can be done by the doctors in surgery. If you don't, you'll deplete yourself too fast. Tip number 2: use the patient's own energy as much as possible. It's not as potent as your own energy, but it's good enough for the smaller stuff, and that's all you need. It's going to be difficult, but you'll get it eventually."

"Focus and use their energy, got it," he said with a nod.

I put my hand on his shoulder and discreetly began to help him while I spoke. "Tip number 3: prioritize. You're energy is like a tank of gas, so you have to make life and death decisions about where you're going to use it. If you save that 90 year old man, you might not have the energy to save the mother of three." I squeezed his shoulder. "Three is the hardest."

His eyes widened as he felt the renewed energy flood him. "What did you just do? I was so tired, but now I feel like I could run a marathon."

I grinned dryly. "I capped of your tank with diesel. Use it wisely." He nodded grimly and I released him. We began to part ways, but I stopped him. "Oh, and Peter, I like you, so if I see you spreading yourself to thin, I'll bench you in a heartbeat."

He smiled a little at that and we left.

Hours passed in a blur. In the end, I did have to bench Peter once or twice, much to his displeasure. After he kept getting up the first time, I used my power to send him to sleep. He was less than pleased when he woke up, but I told him that if he insisted on acting like a child with a new toy, he could expect to be treated like one.

Eventually, though, both of us were completely spent. I spent the night in a hotel room, wondering where I would go from here.

I didn't want to go home. My small town wasn't home anymore, not really. My father was right; I needed to start a new life.

The next day, I called my family and told them I was going to stay in New York for a while, try and start over. Then, steeling myself, I went to a familiar apartment building and knocked on a door.

"Can I help you?"

I smiled down at my mother-in-law. "Hi, Mrs. Gray. How are you?

0o0o0o0

We'd spent the day and most of the night talking. I'd told her of our marriage and his death, but left out the details of Primatech and the government. She was a very simple woman, and Martin Gray had been right when he'd said she was infantile. She really was in many ways, but I needed her. We'd talked well into the night, comforting each other, talking about Gabriel, about everything he and I had learned.

I'd spent the night on her couch, and went apartment hunting the next morning. My new landlord clearly had a thing for me, but I didn't mind as it seemed to prove useful. A little tactful flirting and he handed me the keys to a new apartment readily. I was on the same block as Virginia, wanting to stay close to her. She was my only connection to my husband now.

I didn't have anything of my old life, not even clothes. But that was fine with me. I wanted to start fresh, a whole new life. I'd spent my life thriftily, and a career of saving up meant that I had more than enough money to start over. I bought new clothes and furniture and I even cut my hair. It had been waist length since high school, but now…every time I looked in the mirror, I could feel Gabriel running his hands through it or tucking it behind my ear. So I lopped it off to my shoulders.

Despite all these changes, I still couldn't bring myself to take off my wedding ring or part from his mother. Every few days, I called or visited Virginia. Part of me wanted a connection to him.

The publishing house was less than pleased with my frequent disappearances, but given that I was one of their top sellers, they readily agreed to work with me again.

I was walking home after work when I was approached. "Dorothy Gray?"

"May I help you," I asked, turning warily. I kept one hand my hands free in case I needed to drop him. This was New York, after all, and I was a woman alone.

"Actually, I'm hoping I can help you," the man said. "My name is Samuel."

I raised an eyebrow. "If you're a salesman, I'm not interested in…" I trailed off as he shook his head.

"I'm not a salesman, love. At least, not in the way you're thinking." He looked around. "I know about you, Dorothy. Tell me, how has it been, trying to start a new life?"

I leaned back against the stoop railing and crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow at him. "Glad to see the company is learning people skills. This is much nicer than straight up blackmail, though not as effective."

"I'm not from the company," he said.

"Then who are you," I asked curiously. He smiled a little. I straightened in surprise as the street around me changed into a world of lights and music. I couldn't help feeling impressed as I looked around at the carnival. "Well, this is certainly one of the better party tricks I've seen."

"Come, walk with me," he said, gesturing for me to follow him. Seeing no real reason not to, I fell into stride with him. I felt bizarrely out of place in this fantastic world of bright colors and spinning lights.

"This is my home," he said as we walked. "These people are my family. They could be your family, too, Dorothy."

"I have a home and a family." There was no malice in my voice, just curiosity at what he would say next.

"'Home is not where you live, but where they understand you'," he said. "Christian Morganstern said that, and it's true. Not even the people whose blood you share can really appreciate you for how different you are."

I regarded him curiously. "And you can?"

He smiled at me. "Everyone here, everyone in my family, have gifts like yours. We travel, but we have a home that moves with us. We can accept you for who you really are, for what you can do."

"Ok, so why me, then? There are other healers. I saw files on them when I worked at Primatech," I said, staring behind Samual at a passing man. He'd looked so much like Gabriel….but then he disappeared behind a tent and was gone.

I still saw Gabriel everywhere; this was just my imagination showing me what I wanted to see. Trying not to let it rattle me, I shifted my focus back to Samual.

"Your gift is not the only thing that drew me to you, Doctor. I came because I had a sign that you were supposed to join us, become one of us. Here, you can start a new life with a new family. We offer comfort, empathy, understanding…protection. Here, we live in the open, unafraid and unashamed of our abilities."

I crossed my arms. "So what's the catch?"

"There is no catch," he said, smiling warmly.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm sure the Greek's said the same thing to the Trojans. There's _always_ a catch. I thank you for your offer, but one new life is enough for me. I'd like to go back."

"Fair enough," he said. The carnival vanished and I glanced around to see the same street I lived on. "Take this," he said, holding out a small compass. "Think on my offer, and if you desire to return, the compass will lead you to me."

I watched with narrowed eyes as he walked away. My rebellious thoughts turned to the idea of living in the open, of not having to hide my ability. I shook my head and entered the building.

On my way home, I'd stopped at a drugstore and now I locked my apartment door behind me and moved to my bathroom.

I stared at the box in my hand. I had missed two periods, but my body had never really been regular. And, true, I'd been slightly queasy for weeks, but I figured that was just from eating too much of the cereal I'd been living on. Besides, my life had been so chaotic these passed weeks that I knew it was more likely that the stress was taking a toll on my body, than that I was pregnant.

Sighing and feeling ridiculous, I took the test.

"Now for the wait," I murmured to myself as I set the stick on my sink. I stared at myself in the mirror.

I wasn't sure what, exactly, I was hoping for. Being a single mother wasn't high on my list of things to do, although I knew I could comfortably take care of a child.

On the other hand, part of me desperately hoped I was pregnant, that I was carrying part of Gabriel, any part of him.

Grimly, I checked my watch. My hands began shaking as I saw that it was time. I took a deep, steadying breath.

"No matter what it says, I'll be ok," I told myself firmly.

I looked at the stick.

I checked the box twice to make sure.

I slowly sank to the floor, a shaky combination of relief, joy, and the most intense fear I'd ever felt before.

I was pregnant.

More than ever before, I needed Gabriel.

0o0o0o0

"Happy Thanksgiving," I said brightly when Virginia opened the door two weeks later. "I have peach cobbler and sweet potato casserole."

"Come on in," she said, taking some of the cumbersome items and stepping aside so I could enter.

"Thank you for inviting me to dinner. I hope cooking wasn't too much of a hassle."

"Not at all. It's been a while since I've had a real Thanksgiving dinner," she said.

I began to take the tin foil off of the food. "This was the first time I've ever cooked for Thanksgiving without my sister." Read: I had started crying on the kitchen floor as I realized I would never cook with her again. "Is the parade on?"

"I've been watching it all day," she said with a smile as she accepted a glass of wine. "It was a tradition in our house. Did your family have any Thanksgiving traditions?"

I smiled dryly. "My mom, Rose, and I would be cooking all day, though as the boys married, their wives helped out. At least two fights would break out among my brothers, although, I think it was more out of tradition than any actual animosity." I rolled my eyes.

"It must have been nice," she said as we sat down to dinner. "After Gabriel's father left, it was just me and him."

I covered her hand with mine. "I miss him, too, Virginia."

She gave one of her sad little smiles. "No matter what happened, I'll always be glad to have a daughter." After patting my hand, she returned to fussing with her napkin. "Shall we say grace?"

After grace, we chatted over dinner about nothing in particular. As she brought over the peach cobbler, I took a deep breath.

"So, I found out some interesting news a few weeks ago," I said conversationally. "I found out that…" I cleared my throat, gathering the courage to say it out loud. "I found out I'm pregnant."

Her eyes widened and she froze before hastily setting down the pie. She had a broad smile. "Are you sure? It _is _Gabriel's, right?"

I laughed. "Yes, it's Gabriel's. There was never a question about that. And yes, I'm sure. I went to an obstetrician and had it confirmed. She said I was about 10 weeks along." That long night after the diner, when we'd lost count of how many times we'd made love. A knife of remembered happiness and fresh grief stuck in my chest, but I swallowed and shook it off.

She hugged me tightly. "I'm so happy for you. It's a little bit of Gabriel."

I smiled, but it gradually faded. "I'm scared," I admitted. "I don't know the first thing about being a parent, let alone a single mother. How did you do it?"

She squeezed my hand. "You'll be fine," she reassured me. "It's hard, the hardest thing you'll ever do, but it's worth it. I can help," she said suddenly, brightening. "I always loved babies."

Like so many times before, her simple enthusiasm comforted me. After so long with people who lied and coerced, after so long of double meanings and betrayal, it was always nice to be with this woman.

After another hour or two, I finally said good night and took my leave. I was walking out of the building when a voice rampant with disbelief made the blood drain from my face.

"Dorothy?"

I froze, not trusting my ears. I _knew_ that voice. I knew that voice like I knew my own.

Slowly, I looked up and saw, impossibly, Gabriel flying above me. "This isn't real," I realized sadly as he landed in front of me. "This is just a dream."

"Danko told me you were dead," he said, his voice tense and dangerous as he stared at me. His dark eyes flashed, somewhere between fury and disbelief. "Nathan Petrelli killed you."

I shut my eyes tightly. Someone was doing this to me. Someone was making me see this. It hurt so much that I couldn't even speak above a whisper. "This is cruel. I read his file. My husband is dead." My voice broke as I begged, grief driving me to my knees. Seeing his face and knowing it was a trick was physically painful. "Please stop. I can't bear it."

I felt his hand, warm and familiar and gentle, tuck hair behind my ear and I started to cry helplessly. "It's me, Dorothy." Strong arms lifted me from the ground and cradled me carefully to his chest. I wrapped my arms around his neck, inhaling his comforting, familiar scent.

I looked at him, his face blurry through the tears in my eyes. "How is this possible?"

He kissed my hair. "Come on. We can't talk here. Do you have an apartment?"

I nodded shakily. "It's only a block away." Reluctantly, he set me on my feet.

Five minutes later, I let us into my apartment and shut the door.

The short walk in silence had given me time to collect myself. As desperately as I wanted it to be him, I knew that there were a million ways someone could trick me: shapeshifters, telepathically implanting a suggestion, visual manipulation …the list went on and on.

Plastering a smile on my face, I walked to him and took his hand. Primatech had taught me more than just that I could torture someone; they had taught me that I could temporarily shut off their abilities. When he physically didn't change, I firmly stomped on the hope rising in my chest.

"I remember when we first met," I said, smiling up at him, watching his eyes. "I came into your shop with my grandfather's watch."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "So you're testing me," he said in amusement, watching me.  
"We met in our old apartment building, when I dropped my groceries." My heart fluttered when he got it right, but I tamped it down. He could just have done his research.

"I have a tattoo on my back," I said, dropping all pretenses. "Describe it, and how you first saw it."

He smiled. "The White Tree of Gondor, and it's between your shoulder blades. I saw it after we slept together for the first time."

He brought a hand up and stroked my cheek, speaking quietly. "You're vegetarian because you don't like the taste of meat, and you won't eat cheesecake because you say it has a weird texture. You're scared of robots. You claim to dislike 90's music, but secretly listen to the Backstreet Boys when you're feeling sad." By now, I'd begun to cry, knowing it was really my husband, but I couldn't move. "You love my hands on your waist, but if I want you to tremble, I just need to kiss your collar bone. Shall I go on?"

Silently, I shook my head and he grasped my face in both hands and kissed me. As he pulled me to him, I wrapped my arms around his neck. I deepened the kiss, wanting him, needing him, needing to reaffirm that he was real, that he was alive. He swept an arm under my knees and carried me to the bedroom.

0o0o0o0o0

I lie on top of him in bed, head on his chest, as he stroked my hair. We were both exhausted from our enthusiastic reunion, but unwilling to let each other go. I think both of us were craving the physical contact, the affirmation that the other was alive and real.

"When I realized they'd taken you, I went after Danko. He told me that Nathan had killed you to get back at me and I lost it. I wanted revenge. I wanted to make the world pay for what they'd done to you. And for that I needed abilities, so I made a deal with Danko to hunt down people with powers. Eventually, I killed Nathan, but Peter is smarter than he lets on," he said dryly. "They captured me and inserted Nathan's consciousness into my body. My own consciousness went into Matt Parkman."

At this, I raised my head and looked at him. "The cop?"

"You know him?"

"I've met him once or twice. I didn't think he was capable of something like that."

"He's an idiot," Gabriel said dismissively. My lip twitched slightly at his blasé assessment. "But after several weeks, I took over his body and went in search of my own. Once I was inside my own body again, I had a problem, as Nathan's consciousness was still inside me. I had Thanksgiving dinner with the Petrellis." He laughed. "But I managed to gain control over Nathan and went after Peter. I really have to stop underestimating him. He took the Haitian's ability and actually managed to best me again. Of course, it wasn't long after that before I killed Nathan and got away. I went to see my mother, but then I saw you."

I kissed his jaw lightly. "I can't even imagine going through that."

He shrugged. "The part that's strangest to me is having two separate memories for any given point in time. I remember being at a carnival and this woman showed me in a tattoo who I needed most, and it was you, though I didn't know it at the time." He kissed my nose. "At the same time, I remember being in the station while Matt interrogated a suspect."

I was idly playing with his hair, wrapping it around my fingers. "You're free. You're with me, now, where you'll always be." I shivered as he started running his finger up and down my spine.

"So what about you?"

I sighed. "Well, I woke up in a facility with a bunch of other people, all drugged and unconscious. When we escaped, I stole your file. That's how I learned that you were dead and that you thought Nathan had killed me. I went home for a while to try and start over, but…well, it's true what they say. You can't ever really go home, not after something like that. So, when I came to New York, I just…stayed. Started a new life here. And…I found out something." I bit my lip and propped myself up on my elbows so I could look at him. "I'm pregnant."

He stared at me. For the first time since I'd met him, I'd rendered Gabriel speechless. I couldn't help but smile at the thought. After a few moments, I thumped his chest lightly. "Well, say something."

He grinned and rolled us so that he was pressing me down onto the bed. He kissed me. "I love you."

Gradually, his grin faded into a frown, and he stared at me for so long that I grew concerned. "Gabriel?"

He rolled off of me and I sat up, propped against the headboard. To my surprise, he laid his head on my bare stomach. I stroked his hair. "The first time you were kidnapped" – I snorted and he shot me a look – "I went to Texas. There was a Japanese time-traveler there. Hiro Nakamura. He said that I would die alone, that no one would mourn, no one would shed a tear." He ran a hand across my barely-there baby bump. Sadness for his past rolled through me, and I wondered what I could possibly say that he would really hear.

I pulled him up and sat on my heels facing him. "Gabriel, do you know what I did when I thought you were dead?"

His eyes hardened when he glanced around the room. "A new start, evidently."

I put my finger under his chin and made him look at me. "When I got home and opened that file, I cried for days. I cried until I had no more tears left. I couldn't get out of bed. It was all I could do just to keep breathing without you. That was months ago. Now look at my left hand, Gabriel."

He looked down. "You're still wearing your wedding ring," he realized, looking back up at me.

"I couldn't bear to take it off. Because I love you. Despite all we've been through, all the things I had to do just to be with you, I've stayed by your side because I love you. I love you so much that the thought of living without you caused me _physical_ pain." I smiled at him, the affectionate smile all women get when the men they love are being idiots. "Honey, I'm not sure what else I can do to convince you that I love you more than my own life."

He kissed me, then, and it was a while before either of us said anything else.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Just so people aren't lost, this starts at Episode 17, Season 4. Hiro, Ando, and Suresh just escaped the loony bin, and Bennet took them to Dorothy's apartment.**

0o0oo0o0

Pounding on my door woke me with a start. I glanced to where Gabriel had been sleeping every night these past several weeks, only to find the spot cold and empty.

Of all the times for him to have gone AWOL.

Sighing, I climbed out of bed naked and grabbed my dressing gown, fastening it as I came to the door. I groggily glanced out of my peep hole only to see Mohinder Suresh of all people.

With Hiro Nakamura, Noah Bennet, and someone I didn't recognize

And it looked like Hiro was unconscious.

Of course he was.

Instantly awake, I opened the door widely and gestured for them to come inside. Quickly, they swept past me to my couch. Noah moved to shut the door behind them, locking it.

"Pleasantries later. What happened," I asked authoritatively as I moved to the couch. I perched on the edge, leaning over Hiro and putting my hand on his head.

"He was fine, but then he collapsed," said the stranger. "Please help him."

I nodded firmly. "I will help him, but brain damage is tricky. Mohinder, there's an ipod over there. Bring it to me, please." As soon as I had the headphones on, I placed a hand on his forehead and threw myself into Hiro's brain.

I was absorbed in my work, uncaring of the time passing. The brain had always been the hardest to work on, so intricate, so delicate. It was like doing surgery on a butterfly's wing. It required all my focus.

I had eradicated the tumor and was putting the finishing touches on Hiro when I felt his body start to bottom out. Startled, I opened my eyes. There was no reason for this. The tumor was gone! Nothing I was doing would have caused this, and his brain was on the mend. I didn't understand. Alarmed at this sudden and inexplicable turn, I hastily placed both my hands on his chest and tried to stabilize him.

Despite my efforts, Hiro's heart stopped.

"What's wrong," Ando asked frantically, watching my face.

"He bottomed out for no reason," I said grimly.

Placing both hands on Hiro's chest, over his heart, I focused every ounce of energy I had and _SLAMMED _it into his body.

His heart gave a weak pump, but went silent again.

"Come on, Hiro! I can't heal you if you don't fight," I breathed. Holding up my hands, I took a deep breath, feeling the energy pulse in my fingers. To my surprise, they glowed golden.

I brought my hands to his chest and hit him with a wave of energy that would have brought the Hulk back to life.

Nothing.

Ando was yelling Hiro's name.

I only had one more in me. I needed to change tactics. Closing my eyes, I went from slamming him with energy to flooding him with it. The energy washed over him like a wave, every cell in his body jumping into hyperdrive and healing, growing stronger, better, supercharged.

His heart gave a tentative flutter…and Hiro stabilized. Within moments, his body had settled calmly into its normal rhythm and he opened his eyes.

I sighed in relief and slumped over the arm of the couch. When he tried to sit up, I pushed him firmly back down with a hand. "Stay," I said firmly, pointing a tired finger at him.

"Hiro!" Ando rushed to his side. "You look younger," he said in awe. He glanced up at me.

I shrugged. "Well, I pumped enough energy into him to heal every cell in his body, and I did it three times. It reversed the damage of time, too, I guess."

Wearily, I pulled myself off the couch. I felt like I had just run a marathon: exhausted down to my bones, but pumped at the same time. Stumbling to the kitchen, I pulled out a bottle of the Gatorade I kept stocked and began chugging one down, grimacing at the brain freeze. Knowing I would feel better in a moment, I threw the empty bottle into a recycling bin before grabbing two more from the fridge.

I walked back out and handed one to Hiro. "Drink it. Trust me, you'll need it."

He looked mildly disgusted as he tasted it. "You like this?"

I laughed. "Actually, I can't stand the taste of it, but there's no better cure for the hangover."

"Hangover," Mohinder asked curiously. I started a little, having forgotten he was in the room.

"After doing a lot of healing, it feels like the morning after an all night binge."

Everyone turned when we heard the key in the lock. I sighed when I realized who it had to be. There was no way this would end well.

Gabriel walked in.

Everyone froze.

And then, everyone started moving at once.

Sylar yanked me behind him protectively. Mohinder leapt at him with a growl, but was thrown against the wall. Noah pulled out his gun and fired, but the bullets froze in the air. Ando and Hiro leapt up, but were quickly pinned against the couch.

I sighed. "Hi, honey," I said dryly.

Everyone but Sylar looked at me incredulously. Much to my amusement, Sylar, whose warped sense of humor surpassed even my own, eyed our guests hungrily and sarcastically said, "Aw, you brought me dinner." I couldn't hide my grin as I stepped around him.

Taking a page from my mother's book, I addressed them all like recalcitrant children.

"Hiro is going to take everyone out of here peacefully, but then he's not going to use his power for at least two days, because his body needs rest," I added firmly, giving my patient a pointed look.

I blinked, and suddenly found Gabriel and I were alone in the apartment. I smiled in satisfaction.

When I turned, my husband was staring at me with that piercing, unblinking gaze. I coughed into my fist to cover a laugh. "So, funny story. Really, you're gonna laugh."

Gabriel clearly didn't find it as amusing as I did.

0o0o0o0o0

_Dorothy,_

_I've gone to see Parkman and get him to remove my powers. If they're gone, I can finally restore my humanity and be the man you need me to be. _

_Gabriel_

"That's it," I said in disbelief, flipping over the note. There was nothing written on the back. I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I married an idiot. A suicidal idiot. With crappy penmanship."

If my husband had gotten himself killed, I was going to revive his dumb ass and kill him again.

Half an hour, a few phone calls, and one called-in favor later, I was packed and headed to the airport.

0o0o0o0o0

I climbed out of the taxi and stood in front of the house. This was the address I'd been given for Matt Parkman.

I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin. "Just put on your big girl panties and do it," I muttered. I walked to the front door and knocked.

Matt Parkman answered. "Dorothy," he said incredulously as he opened the door. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again. What are you doing here?"

I smiled sweetly. "Is Sylar here," I asked, shaking his hand. He froze, which meant yes, he was. "Excellent," I said, ducking under his arm and into the house. "Where is he?"

"Sylar's not here," he said, tilting his head in the listening pose I knew to avoid. Hastily, I grabbed his hand and blocked his power. He winced as whatever mojo he was sending at me backfired.

"Matt Parkman, I've saved your life, Molly Walker, and many of your friends. You owe it to me to at least hear me out," I said firmly.

He hesitated before reluctantly showing me to the kitchen. "What do you want, Dorothy?"

I opened my purse and handed him the note. "Tell me what happened, Matt."

"You married _Sylar?_ You _married_ Sylar. _YOU_ married _SYLAR?_" The words were the same, but the emphasis was different each time, as was the incredulity behind it.

I looked him dead in the eye. "Tell me what happened, Matt. No matter what you think of my taste in men, you owe me big for saving you and Molly."

He sighed and shook his head, handing me back the note. "He came here, but I couldn't help him." He ran a hand through his hair. "I had to stop him from hurting other people. Permanently."

I stilled. "What did you do?"

His lips thinned and for a moment, I thought he wasn't going to answer. "I trapped him in his mind."

I raised my chin. "You will take me to him. Now." It wasn't a request.

After hesitating, he led me to the basement. Peter Petrelli was on the ground, and I ran to him. A split second told me that he was physically fine. I turned to Matt in confusion. "Where is Sylar?"

He jerked his chin to the brick wall behind me. "He's in there. He's locked inside his nightmare."

My blood ran cold as my gaze traveled over the wall in shock and horror, and for several moments I couldn't speak.

A line from Sweeney Todd came unbidden to my mind: '_For the cruelty of men is as wondrous as Peru.'_

"Leave us," I said icily. Footsteps thumped on the stairs as he left.

Not knowing what else to do, I went to the steps and sat there, wondering what on earth I could do to help Peter and Sylar.

An hour passed in absolute silence and then Peter stood up, scaring the living hell out of me.

"Dorothy," he asked, frowning at me as I came away from the stairs. A rumbling sound halted any conversation and we both dove for cover. Bricks went flying everywhere, and then the dust cleared, revealing Gabriel.

"How much time has passed?"

Peter checked his watch. "Half a day, maybe."

"It felt like years," Sylar said. He froze when he caught sight of me. "Dorothy?"

I smiled dryly and quirked an eyebrow at him. "Hi, honey. How was _your_ day," I asked sarcastically. In three strides of his long legs, I was bent backwards, cradled securely in his strong arms as he kissed me passionately, like he hadn't seen me in years, like he was dying of thirst and I was water.

"Well, a few more kisses like that and I might forget why you're in trouble," I said breathlessly when he let me up. He smirked.

"I hate to break up this little love fest," came a voice from the top of the stairs. The three of us glanced around, realizing we were surrounded…by the same man.

"Duplicates," Peter snarled.

"Which one's the real one," Sylar breathed.

"Now, that's the question everyone's asking," the man laughed.

I rolled my eyes, easily able to discern the energy radiating from the one real man. Not thinking, I calmly punched him as hard as I could. I yelped, my hand throbbing as he reeled back and the copies fluttered briefly. Sylar instantly reacted, punching him harder than I could, and sent him flying up the stairs, unconscious. The copies vanished.

Cradling my hand and looking a bit disgruntled, I followed the men up the stairs.

"What the hell is he doing here," Matt asked as Peter helped him to a stool. I came over to help Peter examine the leg. "I trapped him in a nightmare. What the hell's he doing out?"

"It's a long story," Peter and Sylar said over each other. Deciding there was one healer too many tending to Matt's leg, I flapped my hands at Peter. He stood after giving me a look.

"But right now we need to know what Samuel is planning, and when, and where," Peter said.

"Thousands of people are in danger, Matt," Gabriel added.

"Get inside this guy's head, tell us what you see," Peter said.

"Why, so you guys can run off and be super heroes together? This is ridiculous. Peter, come on, this guy's a monster. I can't believe you actually _trust him_."

I kept one ear on the conversation as I focused on Matt's leg. I was sorely tempted to 'overlook' his pain receptors there, but managed to scrounge up some compassion at the last second.

"You're not going anywhere. You leave with Sylar and people will end up dead and that's on you. I can't let that happen," Matt was saying as I finished his leg and stood.

"Matt Parkman." My voice was so cold, everyone stopped. "Healers have to represent the very best of humanity, which means I never turn down someone who needs me, including the man who kidnapped and psychologically tortured my husband." I gestured to his leg, eyes hard. "When you were called upon to do the same, you were crueler than I thought humanly possible. In the future, when you tell people about this, tell them that you had a chance, but you were just _So. Much. Less _than the best of humanity."

He thinned his lips and looked away. "Fine. Just…get the hell out of my home."

Gabriel pulled me out the door.

In the cab to the airport, Sylar watched me cradle my hand. "How's your fist," he asked, looking amused.

I grimaced. "I will never understand why men insist on punching each other." Peter and Sylar both chuckled at that, making me roll my eyes. Gabriel just put his arm around me and kissed my hair.

0o00o0o0

The carnival was lit brilliantly, just as I remembered. Not, of course, that I was actually _at _the carnival. No, after several 'years' of thinking I was dead, he'd taken one look at his little pregnant wife and forbidden me to come.

I'd nearly laughed out loud at that. Like he could forbid me to do anything, especially after he and Peter had told me what Evil Carnival Man was planning to do.

I nodded and smiled, thinking that I would simply take the next cab after they'd left and follow them to the carnival. If Samuel was really going open the earth, then the victims would need everyone who could help.

But Gabriel knew me about as well as I knew him, it seemed.

No, he'd convinced Peter to plant a thought in my head, a reluctance to leave the apartment until it was all over. It was incredibly frustrating. I _knew_ that the thought wasn't mine, I knew I could be of use at the carnival, but every time I started to walk to the door, I found myself diverted.

This sucked.

So here I was, watching everything on the news.

"What is she doing," I murmured, watching a pretty blond climb the Ferris Wheel. I jumped up in surprise, my hand instinctively covering my mouth in horror as she leapt off the top and plummeted to the ground. No one could have survived that fall, except for maybe my husband.

But then, impossibly, the girl stood up and healed herself. She stared calmly into the cameras and announced her name was Claire Bennet.

First came shock.

Then came horror and the rush of pure adrenalin.

In one fell swoop, this stupid, _stupid_ girl had just announced on live television that Specials existed.

"Stupid, stupid girl," I murmured. "What have you done?"

I'd lived freely, out in the open in my small town, but even I wasn't naïve enough to think the world was ready for something like this. People feared what they didn't understand. We would be hunted ruthlessly. It would be a massacre.

My first instinct was to run to Gabriel, but the impulse was still in my mind to stay. I found myself standing in front of the door, unable to leave. I let out a stream of curses that would have made a sailor blush before whirling and storming to the bedroom.

Gabriel and I had to leave. We had to run away, start somewhere where no one knew us. My mind was reeling with the implications. The government would be pressured to enact laws for the identification and segregation of Specials, maybe even to the extent of internment camps like they'd done to the Japanese. Violence was almost an inevitability. No place would be safe.

The thought stilled my hand as I placed one of Gabriel's shirts into a suitcase.

No place would be safe. No city or suburb would be free from discrimination and fear. It was pointless to run. At least here, we had friends and family, people in the same boat we were. Here, we had a support system.

As if sensing my distress, I felt a flutter deep in my belly, making me gasp and drop Gabriel's shirt. I stared at my stomach. The baby was moving.

I sat down hard on the edge of the bed, suddenly brought back to reality.

"Noah," I breathed, running my hand over my stomach as I mentally pictured the little boy I'd met in the future Peter had taken me to. I closed my eyes.

In that future, Specials had been hunted and feared. Perhaps Gabriel and I had run, then. Maybe that had been a mistake. Unless I wanted that future of fear and paranoia, I had to do things differently.

I couldn't just fly off the handle and run like a scared rabbit. Gabriel and I were both made of sterner stuff than that. Given what we'd been through these past few years, we'd had to be. The baby would almost certainly have abilities, and unless I wanted him to be born into a world where he was hunted or persecuted, things had to change. I had to be strong. We had to change the world, and if that meant fighting, so be it.

Resolved, I began putting back everything I'd packed. We were staying.

I was curled up on the couch, nursing a cup of tea as I watched the T.V. when Gabriel came home. Our eyes met as came through the door, and I smiled dryly, arching an eyebrow. "So, that happened."

"Claire is holed up with her family in the Petrelli mansion," he said, throwing his coat onto a chair as he joined me on the couch. He laid down, propping his head on my lap and rubbing his eyes tiredly. "It sounds like the Petrelli's are going to be the front men for the Special's movement."

I nodded, stroking his hair. "It makes sense. Incredibly volatile, history making social movement. Who else better to represent us than what's probably the most corrupt, manipulative, dangerous political family in history?"

He cracked an eye open to shoot me a look, and I couldn't keep the amused smile from my lips as I looked back at the T.V.

"You're taking this incredibly well," he commented, closing his eyes again as I continued to play with his hair. "I expected you to have the apartment packed and tickets to Siberia."

"Well, I almost did," I admitted. "But then I started thinking about the baby, and what kind of world he would be born into. I think we should stay, Gabriel."

This seemed to surprise him enough that he opened his eyes and angled his head so he could see me better. "It's going to be dangerous." He wasn't arguing with me, just curious as to my thoughts.

I shrugged. "You're right. But the world needs to change, and you're undoubtedly one of the most powerful men on the planet. Whether you're a body guard or a face for the movement, you can do more good here than in hiding. And my place is with you, wherever that is."

0o0o0o0o0o

_**7 months later**_

My husband's eyes were sharp as they scanned the crowd for any sign of danger.

"Relax, Gabriel," Peter said, coming to sit beside us at the table. "This is a political event. Parkman won't let anyone in who might pose a threat."

The world was gradually becoming used to Special's as their neighbors and teachers, but there were still occasionally street beatings and mobs by the frightened few. The hostility, while not the norm, was not unusual enough for anyone's comfort, and gatherings of powerful Special's like this were major targets for violence.

Tracy Strauss had run for and been elected Senator of New York on a platform of peace and protection for Specials. She was the first politician to come out as Special, and her celebratory party was a "who's who" of Special celebrities.

Gabriel and I had been invited, as we had become something of household names in our own rights: he was Head of Security for the Petrelli's, the most famous family of Special's in the world.

Weeks after Claire had taken her swan dive into fame, I'd written a nonfiction book about Specials, trying my best to dispel fear and myth. After several midnight discussions with Gabriel, I had decided to publish it under my real name, instead of my pseudonym. As the first book of its kind written about Specials, by a Special, it was an overnight success. Unfortunately, there had been a few threats made against me, and Gabriel was not one to take threats against his (now 9 months pregnant) wife lightly.

Privately, I was more upset about Gabriel making me sell my motorcycle than about the threats.

Gabriel leaning over to whisper in my ear snapped me back to the present. "You know, we could always go make out in one of the closets."

I grinned. I'd been a terrible influence on my husband. "I thought my hormones were the ones out of control." I winced slightly as my stomach gave another Braxton Hicks contraction. It had been doing that all day, but my mother said it was simply a trial run for labor and to ignore it. The feeling passed after a moment.

"I was just thinking about safety," he said innocently, his eyes doing that smoldering thing I loved so much. "Closets are hidden and confined. Of course, we could always go home and I could get you out of that gown…" As he let his sentence trail off, I was already pulling him to his feet, making him laugh.

"If you'll excuse us, it seems my wife is tired. I'm taking her home," he said dismissively to the table, already ushering me away as I laughed. Knowing smirks and a wolf-whistle from Tracy followed us away from the table.

As we waited outside for the valet to bring our car around, he decided to make the best of our time (and my raging hormones), and kissed me firmly, cradling my face in his hands. I was very much enjoying myself when pain shot through me and wetness spread down my legs.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," I cursed loudly, doubling over in pain.

"Dorothy?" Gabriel's voice sounded alarmed, but I was in too much pain to comfort him.

"Hospital," I gasped. "Labor. Water broke. Contraction. Ow ow ow!"

What followed was both amusing and horrifying. Gabriel didn't wait for the car to be brought around. With a feat of what had to be telekinesis, he picked me up and launched into the air like Superman.

It would have been incredibly romantic, had I not been in agony.

We landed at the hospital and Gabriel proceeded to scare and bully the staff into putting me in a wheelchair and taking me straight to a room. God bless the man, he didn't leave my side once.

I'd helped several women give birth while working for the Company, and my own contractions seemed unusual. I was alarmed, but I told myself that it was simply because I was finally the patient and not the doctor. After all, my own powers didn't work on me. For all I knew, this was completely normal.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Finally, I found myself in a hospital bed in the maternity ward, dressed in a hideous gown, and utterly bored. For a few hours, I entertained myself by watching a reformed serial killer lose his mind as he guarded me like an over-protective German Shepherd. I was torn between laughing at Sylar, and screaming at him for knocking me up in the first place whenever a contraction hit.

I chose the former. "Gabriel, calm down. Women have been doing this for millennia."

He eyed me. "You're calm enough for the both of us." I felt him shuffle around in my brain, a bad habit of his when he was worried. He arched an eyebrow as another contraction hit. "You're going to castrate me? With a grapefruit knife? Dipped in lemon juice? Now, that's more what I expected."

"I still get points because I didn't say it out loud," I gasped as the contraction let up. "Where is your mother, and where the HELL IS MY EPIDURAL?!" This last part was a little louder and angrier than I'd intended, as another contraction had already begun.

Gabriel, alarmed, sprang into motion, and returned a few minutes later with an irritated nurse in tow. "First we had to deal with nervous fathers, and now we have to deal with nervous fathers with super powers," she muttered, obviously not intending me to hear. I caught her eye and winked at her, before another contraction hit. She took one look at the readings on the monitor and hit the call button. "Send in Dr. Stanson."

I tried not to read into the alarm in her voice, but Gabriel wasn't taking chances. "What is it? What's wrong?"

She ignored him in favor of the obstetrician entering the room. This wasn't our obstetrician, and I frowned. The man also looked a little alarmed at whatever he read. "Dorothy, I'm Dr. Anthony Stanson. I know your doctor is Dr. Edwards, but he's out of town tonight, so I'll be taking care of you. Soon you'll feel the need to push, but I need you to fight it, ok?" I was beginning to get frightened, and grabbed Gabriel's hand. Another contraction hit, and the doctor left the room temporarily, coming back with several more people.

The doctor pulled Gabriel aside as I was suddenly being strapped to oxygen and wires. What was going on? There was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, that something was very, very wrong.

No one would tell me what was going on. "Gabriel? Gabriel, what's going on?" Panicking, I reached for him, but a nurse skillfully blocked my arm and suddenly I was being wheeled out of the labor and delivery room. "What's going on? I want my husband," I tried to insist, but I was hushed.

The next thing I knew, I was in what looked like an operating room, and my oxygen mask was being switched for another mask. The feeling that something was wrong was now yelling for attention, but I was scared and trusted the doctors and nurses to take care of me. Whatever anesthetic they were giving me kicked in quickly. The last thing I remember was Dr. Stanson's face leaning over me, telling me to breath deep.

0o0o0o0o0

I opened my eyes.

A baby was crying.

Voices were yelling.

It smelled like blood.

I couldn't move.

I closed my eyes.

0o0o0o0o0o

Groggily, I registered the smell of smoke, and glass shattering.

I turned my head. I was still in the operating room. There was blood everywhere, and a nurse lay on the floor, her eyes open and unblinking.

The crack of a gunshot echoed through the room.

I was so cold.

I fought to stay conscious. I had to wake up.

The world went dark again.

0o0o0o0o0o

Gabriel was standing over me.

No, _Sylar_ was standing over me. He was so angry.

He was picking me up. I felt something tear in my stomach, and dimly registered the pain.

0o0o0o0o0

I was cold.

The ceiling was blue.

No, not the ceiling. The sky. We were flying.

I smelled Gabriel.

And blood.

0o0o0o0o0

Sunlight was streaming in through an open window, landing on the bright, cream comforter covering me. It was thick, but there was a coldness that seemed to be spreading from my bones.

"Gabriel?" My voice was rough and cracked.

Instantly, he was by my side. "I'm here, Dorothy. I'm right here."

"The baby?" I was struggling to stay awake. Whatever anesthetic they'd used was wearing off. I could fight it now.

"He's fine," Gabriel reassured me, stroking my hair. He had blood on his face.

"I'm so cold."

"You lost a lot of blood." He climbed carefully onto the bed and lay next to me, offering his body heat.

I went to sleep again.

0o0o0o0o0

This time when I woke up, my head was clear. I could think, and dimly remember the flashes of consciousness I'd had.

I was alone in the room. Carefully, I sat up, wincing as something pulled low on my belly. Gingerly, I shoved the covers back and pulled up the t-shirt someone had dressed me in. A long, jagged, pink scar was across my belly, like I'd had a c-section. But the scar looked several weeks old. I frowned and looked around the room.

This was no hospital. That much was obvious. This was someone's home, and judging by the size and look of the room, it was a very wealthy someone.

Carefully, I sat up and swung my legs over the side. I was weak, but that was probably to be expected. I wasn't hooked up to an IV or anything. No monitors, no fluids…

With a new sense of resolve, I forced myself to my feet. Shakily, I took a few steps, nearly toppling over, but managing to steady myself on the edge of the bed. Through sheer determination, I made it to the door and opened it, getting more confident with each step.

Outside the door, there was a woman walking down the hallway. She rushed over when she saw me. "Oh, Mrs. Gray, you shouldn't be on your feet. Let me take you to bed, and I'll get your husband."

I didn't quite trust her, given the memories flashing through my head, but I let her escort me back to bed. "Where are we?"

"We're in the Petrelli mansion," she replied, pulling the covers back over me. I sat up almost petulantly, and propped myself against the headboard. She eyed me, but chose not to comment. "I'll let your husband know you're awake." She closed the door behind her.

A few moments later, it opened again, this time for Gabriel. He was carrying a tiny bundle in his arms. Grinning widely, I opened my arms as he approached. "Dorothy, I'd like you to meet Noah Gray," Gabriel said, carefully placing the baby in my arms.

"He's perfect," I breathed as Gabriel sat next to me on the bed, his long legs stretching almost over the end. Gabriel placed a kiss on my temple as I used my power to check over every inch of my son. Noah watched us both through narrowed brown eyes. His father's eyes. "Hello, Noah," I murmured softly, already in love with the tiny creature. "I'm your momma." In response, he yawned and closed his eyes, instantly melting my heart.

"How are you feeling," Gabriel asked me.

"Confused," I answered honestly, keeping my voice low so I didn't wake the baby. "What happened?"

Instantly, Gabriel's eyes hardened. "'Dr. Stanton' was a member of T.H.S.," he said, eyes flashing in remembered anger. T.H.S. stood for True Human Society, the implication being that Specials "weren't true humans and therefore not God's children". "They killed Dr. Edwards so that they could get to you. They didn't want to be labeled murderers, so they were going to kill you in an operating room and say you died of complications from childbirth. I didn't realize what their true intentions were until I read the mind of one of the 'doctors'."

"Good Lord," I murmured. "How close did they get?"

He kissed my head again. "They accomplished their goal," he said carefully, maintaining full eye contact. I frowned, not understanding.

"So, what? Death didn't take," I joked lightly, my voice questioning.

Gabriel cleared his throat. "By the time Peter and I made it to the Operating Room and…handled the situation…you'd already bled out. I gave you enough blood to revive you, and we took you and Noah back here. I…was shaken at losing you…and you were already under anesthesia…"

I narrowed my eyes. "Stop hedging, Gabriel Gray. You're no good with build-up."

"I gave you Rapid Cellular Regeneration."

My eyes widened in surprise. "Like Claire? Are you saying I'm invulnerable now?"

"Yes." He was watching me, eyes guarded, waiting for my reaction.

I smiled and kissed him. "I love you."

Relieved, he rested his forehead against mine, and for a few moments, we sat there in silence. We had eternity together. After all we'd had to go through, we finally got our happy ending.

"Gabriel?"

"Hmm?"

"I want my motorcycle back."

_End_

0o0o0o0o0o0o

**A/N: So, I finally finished the story! What did you think? I just didn't think it was fair to Gabriel or Dorothy that they only get maybe 70 years together, and then he has to face eternity alone. So I fixed it! **


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